Elizabeth Weitzman

The performances are expert, but can't make up for a flat script and direction. Unless you, like Claire, are a glutton for punishment, we suggest you choose nothing over something.

Guaranteed to charm anyone who’s out of school and already bored.

Melodrama, romance and action are cheerfully jumbled together, so as long as you're ready to embrace the excess of swoony sentimentality, you'll get more than your money's worth.

There's not much to the movie, in which we watch the participants crack jokes and complain about their in-laws over corned beef. But when the diners include Sid Caesar, Carl Reiner, director Arthur Hiller ("Love Story"), "Animal House" producer Matty Simmons, and anachronistic announcer Gary Owens, it's worth pulling up a chair.

Despite the spectacularly cool opening credits and some first-rate animation, the story starts to flag about halfway through.

True chemistry is hard to find. And by some stroke of movie magic - or sheer skill - Wahlberg and the bear make a pretty great team.

While foodies are sure to feel sated by the gastronomic splendors of Paul Lacoste's debut documentary, others may walk out with a strange sense of emptiness.

Anybody who missed 2006's excellent indie "The Puffy Chair" has another chance to discover the off-kilter world of the Duplass brothers.

Though "Woman" never rises above its status as a traditional genre thriller, that's perfectly fine. It was made with intelligence and commitment, and it achieves its goal: to keep us looking over our shoulders long after we've left.

Were the casting stronger, the film -- would have had a better chance of transcending its lack of subtlety.

A heartfelt, bittersweet and often amusing portrait of early middle-age.

A film that is both deceptively modest and deeply resonant.

Blunt has never been more relaxed, and she and Segel have a believably warm chemistry. It's also nice to find a romantic comedy with so much respect for both its leads.

These are the best moments, when Stewart and a wisely understated Gugino are free to enact their own wistful, beautifully intuitive pas de deux.

We learn in the documentary Loving Highsmith that the author herself knew plenty about the duality that defined so many of her characters.

Hafstrom never finds the shades in his morality tale, so while Wilson is an intensely charismatic actor, all he can do is respond to relentless, escalating tortures. It's immensely unpleasant for him, and, frankly, not a whole lot better for us.

With a few exceptions, the Indian characters are two-dimensional buffoons whose traditions are presented as silly quirks meant for cheap laughs.

Emma Stone, for example, is no one's idea of an ugly duckling. And though she offers a sincere effort, she never quite settles into the role of Skeeter.

A must-see both for girls and the grownups who love them.

Hunt and, especially, Harper do excellent work rounding out sketchily-written roles. But Pardue, who offers little beyond movie-star looks, is either miscast or genuinely unable to grasp his character's intense longing and insecurity.

Dynamite perfectly describes this riveting documentary.

Ascher leaves us pondering the costs of dissociation, but also its seductive appeal. Is it really that outlandish to look around occasionally, and wonder at the surreality of it all?

The way he presents his romantic history is both clever and entertaining, but after a while the story becomes tediously familiar.

It’s always extra frustrating when a biopic falls short, especially if its subject is as compelling as the relationship between two brilliant iconoclasts like Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West.

It's a shame, of course, that Madden brought the best to such an exotic Top locale without making the most of the opportunity.

Writer/director/producer Beth Elise Hawk has approached her first documentary as an unabashed passion project. Her enthusiasm, and general sense of joy, shine through clearly from start to finish. Though she doesn’t dig deep enough to get us much past the elevator pitch, that pitch is pretty appealing.

A brazenly mindless thriller about the infinite capacities of the human brain. That said, sometimes we just want to shut down and give in to bombastic summer entertainment. In that regard, as usual, Besson delivers.

We never do find out what really went on behind the scenes of “Community.” But the delightful success of a charismatic loner like Crittenden could be considered one of Harmon’s greatest accomplishments.

Despite several attempts, we're still waiting for the drama that convincingly captures the experienc of soldiers who've fought in Iraq. Stop-Loss" isn't that film, but at the very least its efforts are honorable.

Even with its first-rate cast, current political relevance and tangled mysteries, The Good Shepherd remains as remote as Wilson himself. But frankly, if the lives of CIA spies are really this dreary, they may as well keep their secrets to themselves.

It's like racing through a detective novel, only to find the last page has been torn out.

It's a tribute to Adrien Brody that Wrecked works as a modestly compelling thriller, since there's almost nothing to see but Brody himself.

Steven Meyer's deeply affecting documentary, narrated by Laurie Anderson, takes us back to a camp in Nazi-occupied Poland, Majdanek, in order to honor those who left everything behind.

The most adorably filthy movie you may ever see.

So be forewarned: What admirers will consider measured may read, to the unimpressed, as merely slow-moving.

Margaret - titled after a poem - reflects its adolescent subject with striking accuracy. It can be frustrating and self-important, clumsy and naive. But it's also passionate, curious and filled with insight, so unafraid in its ambitions that even the flaws are interesting. Every bold vision requires respect; a few deserve celebration. This is one of them, imperfections and all.

Michael Cuesta's perfectly-pitched indie captures the pain of arrested development with so much empathy and insight, you can't help but root for the unmoored, overgrown adolescent at its center.

It would be nice to see Wright work from a stronger script next time, but she rises above the limitations admirably.

Israeli director Savi Gabizon has created a nuanced coming-of-age portrait that ought to strike a chord with ­audiences ­everywhere.

Good intentions and some nicely playful moments go a long way toward balancing out Paul Morrison's uneven story of British immigrants in the early 1960s.

This preposterous adaptation of the Book of Esther is recommended viewing only for those impressed that it comes endorsed by the American Bible Society.

Eerie, opaque and unblinkingly sadomasochistic.

The small moments loom large in this moving, bittersweet and often funny documentary.

In Linden's assured hands, each character gets just enough time to contribute to the greater whole. They're all recognizable, not as clichés or stereotypes but as realistic individuals.

Built on dry one-liners, off-kilter timing and self-conscious nostalgia, The Kings of Summer seems expressly designed to delight quirk-loving Sundance audiences.

Both neurotic and endearing, it's so carefully accessorized you may not even notice that, at heart, it's a standard-issue romantic comedy.

Because (Vilanch) is such a character, the movie ends up being a lot of fun.

There are several small, startling moments of insight hidden amid the long, slow stretches of listlessness. But the balance is slightly off. We could have used a little more pleasure to get us through his grim adolescent unknown.

Fox stumbles a little at the end, which is unnecessarily exaggerated. He should have trusted his own talent - it's the attention to minor details that makes his work so memorable.

But where there is a natural poetry of motion in surfing movies, off-road racing is a herky-jerky pastime whose ­appeal is hard to fathom. I guess you had to be there.

Ellis' stamp is immediately apparent, from the absurdly vapid characters to the undercurrent of barely repressed anger.

Ristovski needs us to feel his nation's torment, and he succeeds.

An intriguing idea undermined by a lackluster follow-through.

While it's visually stunning, the pretentiousness makes it hard to take seriously.

Characters do little more than run around the same track incessantly, leaving us waiting for revelations that never arrive.

Once in a while, a little reality can be a welcome antidote to our increasingly outsized film fantasies.

Director Gay deals so honestly with the boys' emotions, it's almost a revelation when compared to Hollywood fabrications.

It's no surprise that first-time director Scott Cohen is a nature photographer by trade: he's made one of the most gorgeous movies you'll see this year.

The movie is so glacially paced and underdeveloped that it often feels as numb as its grieving hero.

Ultimately, Dance is unable to connect the many threads of his rather flimsy script, leading to an abrupt and somewhat unsatisfying conclusion. But the journey is worth taking, thanks to the company of its stars.

Even when the movie stumbles, Hudson’s bravura performance — and those extraordinary songs — steady its soul.

A deeply felt, if occasionally amateurish, journey through some very affecting terrain.

A lovely little coming-of-age story, this Taiwanese romance was directed by Chih-Yen Yee with a skillful subtlety enhanced by his young cast.

Statham could do these movies in his sleep by now, so he gets credit for offering up so much dry wit. In fact, while Rudakova makes a painful acting debut, Statham appears more engaged than he has in a while.

Lingers too long on wordless, symbolic shots of the wall itself. But there's no denying the power of seeing two cultures standing so helplessly on opposite sides of a single fence.

“Let’s go for a little ride,” teases Vin Diesel as Dom Toretto at the start of Fast & Furious 6, an amusingly mild suggestion that’s also the only moment of understatement in two dizzyingly high-octane hours.

The resulting jolts add up to one unforgettably surreal nightmare. Just be sure your heart can handle any surprises headed your way.

The entire cast, in fact, seems to be having fun, with Affleck and Koechner cheerfully stealing each one of their scenes. And the jokes come often enough to leave us consistently amused and occasionally delighted.

The real problem is that no one involved seems to realize that their heroine is, in fact, an antiheroine. Had the movie gone all-in on Peg’s amorality, we might have had a more interesting project.

There are no surprises here, in other words, but there aren't supposed to be: This is a comfort film, the on-screen equivalent of mac and cheese - though with a splash of truffle oil to class things up.

As its defiantly bland title suggests, Fighting is a bare-bones effort that tries just hard enough to keep us watching. By making good use of its New York setting, Montiel does bring a certain indie grit to the generic story.

Because Munn wisely underplays, she’s able to creep across the high-wire Bateman has stretched out, in which Violet perpetually balances deadpan external calm with overwhelming internal detonation.

A classic Michael Bay mega-movie. Interested in plot and character development? Move along. You're blocking the view.

Machado establishes a realistically seamy environment for his erotic triangle, and there are some surprisingly tender moments amid the squalor.

This Norwegian zombie flick is perfect for those who just want a few good jolts and whole lot of gore.

Most notably, Bahrani offers an emotional depiction of American farming that will leave viewers troubled, as it should. But he loses his footing when it comes to the story itself.

Despite an admirable effort to explore topical concerns, both director and actor are obviously overwhelmed by the immensity of the subject matter.

The introduction isn't as smooth as it could be, but eventually everyone settles into the right groove.

While Seidelman deserves considerable credit for making the rare romantic comedy about seniors, it's a shame the movie itself is as bland as a low-sodium diet.

He tells his story honestly, but with no great sense of self-awareness or insight.

It has heart and a good kick.

Yeboah is so levelheaded about his own accomplishments that the swelling score and emotional narration from Oprah Winfrey feel embarrassingly sentimental.

Half amusing and half appalling, Matthew Vaughn’s shameless spy caper Kingsman: The Secret Service is ultimately done in by its own hypocrisy.

Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi is an ideal documentary subject, but Erik Gandini's jumbled take on Berlusconi's corrupting influence quickly shifts from good idea to wasted opportunity.

In a feat of truly impressive cinematic finesse, Hendricks manages to capture every possible angle, from below a soaring motorcycle to atop a speeding luger's helmet.

The Swedish edition, which ends with this bleak finale, is downright grim.

Without a satisfying resolution, the movie ultimately sheds very little light on its own subject.

The Invisibles is a powerful testament to the remarkable courage of those forced into heroism, and to the exceptional strength of those who chose it freely.

Shane Acker's underwritten but beautifully animated debut is both an ode to technology and a warning against it. Perhaps unintentionally, the film itself echoes those themes.

While the schemes occasionally seem strained, their desperate determination is never less than compelling.

An excellent idea that never quite pans out.

This is not, frankly, a movie you'll remember long after you see it. But it has just enough moments of genuine intimacy to indicate that Masterson ought to give directing another try.

Mays throws himself into the role of a man who attempts to transform into a woman, but his efforts feel like futile flailings: The actor - and his character - are so much bigger than any story we're allowed to see.

If you're going to put us through hell, you'd better make it worth our while. Though Daybreak boasts a couple of minor insights and a compelling performance from Pernilla August, only the masochistically inclined will consider them sufficient reward.

In a small theater, it’s easy to feel like you’re a part of the romance unfolding before you. But in the grander scheme of an impersonal cineplex, it’s an uphill climb.

Layering his film with the songs that made his subject an icon, Tillman is aware that Biggie connected with his audience because he told stories others instantly understood. Notorious does that, too.

We're bombarded by witless racial clichés, stale sexism and homophobia and enthusiastic celebrations of extreme flatulence.

Feeling very much like it is meant to educate students who don't understand the ruling's relevance, "Speed" doesn't boast much in the way of innovative storytelling. What it does offer is a story that still badly needs to be told.

The plotlines are clichéd and the score overbearing, but uniformly strong turns go a long way towards shaping the lush, nostalgic atmosphere. Don't forget to bring tissues.

Is it possible for an historically -based Holocaust movie to be schmaltzy? This one sure comes close.

So what we're left with is a sort of contact high, drifting gently over to our seats in the back row.

There are moments of genuine emotion between the wacky tryouts and the nail-biter finale, and it seems churlish to complain. But there's little room for laziness around superior players like "Shaolin Soccer" and "Bend It Like Beckham."

How much control are you willing to cede when you see a movie? Because director Radu Mihaileanu is fiercely determined to manipulate your every emotion.

Reygadas is clearly out to shock us, to shake us and show us a host of furious ideas about class, gender, religion, nationality, love - really, there's very little he doesn't throw into this thickly ambiguous stew. If only he hadn't made his deliberately confusing, heavily symbolic story quite so difficult to digest.

Every foul-mouthed joke [McCarthy] cracks, every unexpected physical gag she underplays, is so funny you forget how often we’ve seen this setup. Or, when it comes to women, how rarely.

There's enough affection and insight here to make Lee's next movie worth watching for.

The actors seem exhilarated.

You know that deflated feeling you get after you've spent a lot of time and money shopping - and have little to show for your efforts? This disappointing biography, about performance artist Reverend Billy, does an awfully good job recreating it.

It’s a mystery as to how so much talent combined to create such a cynically superficial product.

Predictable as the adventure may be, the company — and the countryside — make it worthwhile.

He does accomplish his main task, to take us into places civilians rarely go, and give witness to the immense challenges soldiers like his brothers face every second they’re required to be at war.

To underestimate actors of this caliber -- even in a popcorn action flick -- would be dangerous indeed.

A likable, if somewhat earnest, exploration of cultural identity.

The real stars of this film are the same ones who stole every show -- women who once boasted names like Tempest Storm, Candy Cotton and Lady Midnight. Their stories are alternately tragic and inspiring, and often very funny.

I can't imagine why De Niro, who is a fine comedian, is still coasting on his gangster act, and surely Crystal can do something other than play himself...it feels a little like an exercise in laziness.

A few relevant themes do bubble up from this visually intriguing swamp of self-indulgence, but Arquette's pseudo-philosopher seems to speak for Almereyda when he says, "If there was a point, there wouldn't be a story."

The parts are more valuable than the whole in Angelina Maccarone's Unveiled.

This material could so easily have tipped over into false sentimentality, but everyone works with a steady hand. Rebecca Thomas makes an assured debut as both writer and director, the gifted Culkin is excellent as always, and Garner finds lovely shades of nuance in Rachel’s innocent faith.

Gilbert blatantly takes Chong's side, so your level of empathy will rise or fall depending on how strongly you connect with his subject's hazy, if enthusiastic, dedication to "the pursuit of righteous happiness."

Peter Berg’s ultra-bloody battle film “Lone Survivor” is ultimately more grueling than satisfying. It’s more carnage than cinema.

Director George Gallo seems so enamored of Martin Scorsese's Mafia classic, he's borrowed everything from the use of voiceover to the Stones-centric soundtrack to the insistent editing style. What's missing, alas, is the artistry.

Ultimately it’s the cast, more than the crime, that gives this story life.

Good as she is, the effortlessly magnetic Hayek just can't sell the role of a pathetic soul whose deep insecurities turn her into a sociopath. And if she has too much charisma, Leto, as the smooth Lothario, simply doesn't have enough.

Jones co-wrote the uneven script with Will McCormack, and one can't help wishing she'd aimed higher. Acknowledging cineplex clichés isn't enough if you still wind up embracing, rather than subverting, them.

Director Bezucha's eyes are as starry as Montana's sky, but it's pretty hard to resist such a determinedly utopian vision of love.

Designed as their own entity, the brief subtitles convey so little that to get the full experience you won't only need to understand Godard's language. You'll also have to speak French.

With all the talent on tap — including screenwriter Buck Henry, who worked with Michal Zebede to adapt Philip Roth’s 2009 novel — you’d think we’d get something better than this outdated indulgence.

For many kids, the response to the original story remains delighted awe. The most appropriate response here is a thoroughly baffled "huh?"

Few of the parts harmonize ­properly, leaving us with provocative fragments rather than an electrifying whole.

The biggest flaw is the casting: only Shannyn Sossamon delivers a performance of even modest depth.

Modest but memorable.

Eventually any serious statement is lost in a sea of sadism, as he forces us to watch scene after scene of gruesome, humiliating torture.

Dubbed for U.S. audiences, the film has suffered in translation.

Crudup tends to take average parts in standard genre films and turn them into something special.

The movie ends with a setup for another sequel, which will undoubtedly be embraced by fans. Let’s just hope we don’t have to wait another 14 years to see it.

Boasts an unusually strong cast of actors, who boost the slick screenplay into a satisfying popcorn picture.

Connolly has turned Tim Winton’s 1997 novella into his own environmental cri de coeur . . . and while the specifics can get a bit clunky, his passion drives our interest all the way to the end.

It’s hard to say whether Branagh is concerned about getting things wrong, or of being disrespectful. But he never finds the freedom he’s unlocked so often in Shakespeare’s own works. His ambition is honorable, but without substance, it becomes merely the shadow of a dream.

Very little actually happens in the movie. There are no cathartic breakdowns or soul-changing epiphanies. Instead, we're offered a collection of small moments that feel so familiar, they remind us how false most films really are.

As slight as it is sweet.

A more probing exploration of the subjects' diverse challenges would have been welcome. But your heart connects to these young artists. When they soar - onstage and off - you feel it.

If you could also use some time off, try his gentle new comedy.

If you’re wondering how much heat you’ll find in this French romance, the title offers an unexpectedly frank clue.

McAvoy is unerringly charming as Rory, a man who quickly discerns and dismisses well-meaning condescension. So one can't help wondering what he would think of this film, whose sentimentality comes across as smug.

It’s Ross, however, who really makes a lasting impact. Someone should snap her up for a series — and soon.

The film does deserve credit for juggling difficult racial and class issues - but with a wacky score, cute puppies and silly side stories also jockeying for space, Bamford's best intentions tumble to a heap long before the movie ends.

Burrell doesn’t quite capture the wry deadpan of the original, but then, neither does the movie. That’s okay.

Admirable without being fully engaging. It’s too intelligent to dismiss, but not emotional enough to inspire lasting passion.

Paradis - Johnny Depp's real-life love - is as blank as she is beautiful. But Duris is so gung-ho that he turns each ridiculous premise into a masterpiece of comic mayhem.

Charismatic and complicated, Noonan tries to run the movie the way he runs his town. But while the director sometimes appears to be glorifying Noonan's choices, reminders of uncomfortable reality intrude regularly.

Whether today's tweens will go for such wholesomely retro entertainment is questionable, but their parents - at least the ones who once donned rainbow knee socks and too-tight Calvins - will love to love it, baby.

The actors elevate what might have been fluff into a genuinely moving tale, and the action is so much fun that it doesn't even matter if you've seen Molière's plays before.

Deftly composed of many small moments, this gentle Israeli film skirts politics to portray a family that is blessedly normal in its internal chaos.

Genuinely entertaining and, thanks to a well of self-deluded quotes from the men, shockingly funny.

Though we see the same man throughout the bumpy tour captured here -- always calm, steady, faithful -- it's bound to prove an enlightening portrait for those who know him only as the guy who once worked with Peter Gabriel.

The highlights, of course, are the competitions and duels, choreographed by Sammo Hung.

Gere and Grace do make a decent odd couple, but neither seems entirely committed.

The cumulative power of so many great minds envisioning our potential self-destruction is undeniable. You may start planning your move off the grid before the movie even ends.

There is no satisfactory answer to the titular question posed by this no-frills environmental documentary. But first-time feature director Mary Liz Thomson does answer another one at least as important, by showing us who Judi Bari was.

While the filmmakers never quite make the case that their chosen melody deserves its own full-length film, they do ensure that you’ll leave the theater happily humming it.

A wild dream that spins into a nightmare, Moonlight isn't quite as provocative as it aims to be. But it will stick in your mind, and may even disturb your sleep.

The movie looks great, never lags, and keeps us intrigued throughout. It's not until the high wears off that we realize we've just been had.

Putting an entertainingly outlandish spin on "Matrix"-style action, Bekmambetov leans toward flamboyant special effects and operatic overacting.

A fun project that doesn't quite reach its potential, Josh Koury's doc is still worthwhile for anyone who can't wait until 2009 to see Harry Potter back on the big screen.

Note: We're giving this one 4 stars if you're under 12; 2-1/2 stars if you're not...That unwieldy name should give you some sense of Disney's intentions: this is, plain and simple, a consolation prize for all the frustrated fans who couldn't get tickets to Cyrus' sold-out stadium tour last year.

The result would make an excellent inspirational video for aspiring players, but it's not quite ready for the pros.

If someone else had made "My Son," it would be just another crime thriller based on a true story. But with Werner Herzog behind the camera, it's a head-scratcher from start to finish.

It's a decent Valentine's date-night flick, and should earn Reynolds the attention he'll need to snare stronger leading roles.

Unapologetically graphic and slightly marred by an artistic awkwardness, this is a rare and worthwhile glimpse into another nation's historical legend.

The title's accurate; there are lots of minor but magical moments, like witnessing the accidental invention of tie-dye.

Anyone looking for a date-night flick will be inclined to fall for Michael Dowse’s aggressively adorable What If. Just be warned: The single-minded determination to win you over may wind up pushing you away.

Fanning and Russell are a perfect, sweet-and-sour pair. And, of course, the horse is absolutely beautiful - which, in the end, is what this all comes down to, anyway.

Travolta, who delivers an impressively enthusiastic performance, seems to have no idea that he's stuck in one of the year's worst movies. The perpetually pained expression on Williams' face, however, suggests he knows otherwise.

If the children feel like symbols — sweet and touching, but not quite real — the adults provide a profusion of reality.

Directors Jon Hart and Matthew Kaufman don’t delve deeply enough into the psyche of club founder Larry Levenson or the culture he exploited. But they do present an entertaining snapshot of his brief reign as New York’s self-appointed King of Swing.

Charming, funny and poignant. But it's also a reminder that if we want an intelligent teen romance, we have to import it.

Despite Sparrow's ongoing flashes of charm, Depp himself seems to know he's coasting.

There are no villains here, no attempts to sway opinions or even stake out political ground. Some will find that a disappointment. But the truth is that this effort is both more evenhanded than most dramas with similar themes, and more open-hearted.

The always reliable Kingsley and Shaw are hilarious, and if the movie isn't quite a triumph, it's still far better than the junk food currently cluttering movie screens.

Stocked with an impressively high-quality collection of New York actors. Unfortunately, in asking them all to play such unlikable characters, Walsh flushes too much of that talent down the drain.

It’s a testament to both Matlin and the movie that we leave already anticipating the chapters still to come.

Fans of the book may resist the efforts of director Tran Anh Hung ("The Scent of Green Papaya"), simply because it would be impossible to capture the essence of Murakami's prose. But this exquisitely filmed, often haunting tragedy is worth taking on its own terms.

This uneven directorial debut from Jen McGowan is notable mostly for a nicely understated turn from Juliette Lewis.

It’s a shame the filmmakers felt constrained by the import of their subject matter, rather than inspired to take some artistic risks. But even when the storytelling falters, the story itself — not merely extraordinary, but eternally relevant — remains paramount.

If you embrace the overkill, you’ll enjoy it. But if extravagance isn’t your thing, move swiftly on to something lighter and more digestible.

With all the brooding, stylized closeups of blood, crosses and cigarettes, the overall effect is fashion-mag chic -- not, as intended, intellectual thriller.

Though Weddell's accomplishments are inspiring, we would have been better served by a more impartial portrait. With its reverent tone, the movie often feels more like it was made by a doting granddaughter than a pro filmmaker.

So maybe this movie should serve as his introduction to a larger series, in which each artist gets the individual portrait Neville so clearly wants them all to have.

Ratner is unable to maintain the emotional intensity that has made this series so deeply epic. But he sure knows how to put on a show.

Racing enthusiasts will appreciate historical footage, while a thread about a new student overwhelmed by his responsibilities has promise. But after a decent start, Marquet stumbles, never making it across the finish line.

There are plenty of ideas to gnaw on, given that Cronenberg has adapted Don DeLillo's intense novel of a New York on the verge of dystopian breakdown. But frustratingly bland work from lead Robert Pattinson results in an awfully watery stew.

Reeder makes a compelling lost soul, so that even the most soddenly moralistic moments are worth watching.

Oddly, Craig Brewer has softened the tone for his remake. But nearly everything else remains intact, and -- surprisingly -- that's just enough to win us over.

Provocatively intentioned, The Reader is a movie worth seeing - the kind of film you'll think about for days afterward. But when all is said and done, you're likely to wonder why the impact wasn't greater still.

A movie about identity that can't quite pinpoint its own, Andrew Douglas' road-trip documentary about the Deep South does eventually meander toward audience enlightenment.

If you’ve ever watched a classic movie and wondered why no one else seems uncomfortable with its portrayal of female characters, you’ll want to see “Brainwashed” as soon as possible. And if you haven’t — well, that may be all the more reason to seek it out.

Benigni, with great help from young Cantarini, has crafted a work of such complexity that you may find both your brain and your heart simply overloaded. Which, of course, is the rarely achieved goal of all art.

It's up to you to decide if his oddly artsy vision, which pulls in first-person perspectives, surreal memories and highbrow cinematic references, suggests interesting ambition or misplaced pretension.

The baby angle is really just a hook on which to hang wry commentary about single life in the city, but Lisecki approaches his subject with obvious affection, and the game cast makes most of the sitcom-silly antics work.

This is - allegedly - the final chapter in the series, and everyone involved appears invigorated.

The easily offended will be appalled. The rarely offended may be appalled. But they'll have to stop laughing long enough to realize it.

What the movie lacks in depth it makes up for in surreal humor, and - just as he should - Gainsbourg look-alike Elmosnino seduces us effortlessly.

We could all use a little more Noel Coward in our lives. But the fizz falls flat in Stephan Elliot's adaptation of a lesser-known play, which, while blithe enough, has little spirit to speak of.

Unlike most indie directors dealing with this sort of material, Maggio refuses to wallow in the romance of either misery or redemption. Instead, he hangs everything on the honesty of his lead, unknown actor Jordan -- who is so good that if there's any justice, he won't remain unknown for long.

The script unfurls too many obvious setups, but director Eric Valette is smart enough to rely on his most authentic effect — Dupontel’s natural intensity.

The truth is, almost everyone planning to see Eclipse will know how things end before the opening credits even appear. So Slade and his cast can be proud that they consistently keep us involved anyway.

The Painted Veil may begin too slowly, but it also ends too soon.

Levine offers a mostly sharp takedown of middle-class hipsterdom, and he's terrific as a guy whose easygoing demeanor hides continuing growing pains.

Unlike its levitating heroine, it never really gets off the ground.

If "Saw V" offers an example of how little filmmakers can get away with, Splinter proves how much a director can do with next to nothing.

In mistaking obvious observations for cutting insight, writer-director Jonathan Parker becomes what he lampoons.

Young kids will be so distracted by the silly songs and clever contemporary references that they won't even realize they're sitting through cinematic Sunday school.

By the time they're ready to leave their trench, we're not at all ready to see them go.

Troche is most interested in exploring the secret lives hidden inside freshly painted Colonials, and what she finds is that everyone's secret is exactly the same: a crushing inability to connect with the people closest to them.

There are some genuinely funny moments amid the gore, but who knew this famously edgy director would find bathroom humor to be such a knee-slapper?

Regretfully, the beginning of this movie is as good as it ever gets.

A solidly entertaining summer movie is always welcome, even if it can't quite claim to be out of this world.

The parts are ultimately greater than the whole, but Adam Reid's offbeat debut suggests a talent worth watching.

The action is, overall, as exciting as the primary performances are impressive.

The actors hold our attention, and there’s something to be said for the guys’ pathological disconnect. But the movie itself is too disconnected to say it.

It's one thing to sit on your couch watching football in HD. It's another to view one of literature's most enduring fantasies in the same manner. The experience that felt so breathtakingly cinematic in Jackson's "Lord of the Rings" series now seems frustratingly fake.

The latest "Dawson's Creek" alumnus to break out of his WB bonds, Joshua Jackson proves himself all grown up in this sweetly scrappy indie.

Though the film ultimately falls short of its considerable promise, there's more than enough here to keep thoughtful moviegoers - of any age - intrigued.

Novice director Lucky McKee wrote the first draft of this labored horror flick while he was in school, and for a student film, it's not bad. But it's not ready for the big time.

Feels a little too much like a film-school project, but it does offer an informative look at a timely issue.

From a consumer perspective, you're better off skipping the movie and putting your money toward their book instead.

If we learn anything from Away We Go, it’s that a lack of ambition might not be such a bad thing after all.

Moore shows promising ingenuity in shooting parts of the movie covertly, within the notoriously restrictive Disney World resort. But his script never takes the same sort of risk.

A gently appealing and sincere romance.

Both lightweight and heavy-handed, Carl Bessai's arthouse drama can't even be redeemed by Ian McKellen's sensitive turn in the title role.

Masterly coming-of-age drama.

Deftly intercutting between several tenuously-connected lives, Barbara Albert's astringent drama is transformed by bright flashes of compassion.

With its halfhearted script, stiff performances and overlong running time, this is the kind of movie that's simultaneously dazzling to look at, and increasingly tough to sit through.

Every movie's gotta have a gimmick, and Crank's is that it has an excellent shot at ending 2006 as the worst film of the year.

The movie loses its way toward the end, shifting from wry black comedy to slightly overdone pathos. But there's plenty here to appreciate, making the title perfectly apt.

Mazel tov to Scott Marshall for creating an endearing portrayal of familial lunacy that ought to charm as many Smiths as it will Steins.

Berger’s got some clever ideas, but he does not push far in exploring them. And aside from Cross, there is virtually no one to like among these self-involved suburbanites. After an hour alone with them, we can’t help wishing The End would just arrive.

Only a memorably commanding Ruehl transcends the limitations of her two-dimensional character.

With Trishna, his (Winterbottom) penchant for risks has once again paid off.

Had director Ziad Doueiri focused on the resentful Arab youths who clatter provocatively around the edges of his Marseilles-set drama, he might have discovered something interesting.

His first-person perspective is unexpectedly frank as he shares some extremely dark moments -- spurred by increasing anger and doubt -- that civilians rarely get to see.

A decent comedy, good-natured if unspecial, amusing if rarely hilarious.

Accept the challenge. What's good enough for Bart is good enough for you.

Although the movie is not as hilarious as you'd hope from the screwball setup, Gainsbourg and Attal make a solid comedy team.

Hawke works hard to solidify Pawlikowski's wispy ideas (which are adapted from Douglas Kennedy's novel).

The film rests, though, on the sturdy shoulders of Chastain and McAvoy. They don’t share the intense chemistry this couple really needs, but they commit to the individual stories with touching persuasion.

With some movies, you know exactly what you're going to see before you even enter the theater, and Michael Mayer's Flicka is one of them: You've got your girl, you've got your horse, and you've got your strict father trying to keep them apart.

There are satisfying moments throughout the movie.

The Groomsmen captures a single, specific moment, when responsibilities await but adulthood is still unwelcome. If their predicament strikes a chord, you may want to join Burns' boys for their final hurrah.

It's both a compliment and a criticism to say that Michèle Ohayon's scrappy documentary ends much too quickly. Every moment of this story - about America's unlikeliest matchmaker - is fascinating. We just need more of them.

The performances save the movie from a treacly inevitability.

The result, while slight, is a poignant portrait of one of New York's all-star outlaws.

Despite the frivolous feel, it's clear the director intends for Bossa Nova to be a love letter to his two passions: Brazil and his leading lady (who's also his real-life wife). Neither lets him down.

Though the Tickells' unabashedly partial, first-person approach is a liability, they present so much damning evidence that their case is - one hopes - impossible to ignore.

Julian Jarrold's cheerful, utterly predictable crowd-pleaser affirms that, according to many recent films out of Britain, there's a quirky interest to cure whatever ails you.

Because although there are some very striking moments in Neil Armfield's debut, there are simply not enough to keep us absorbed the way a movie should.

For his directorial debut, Bateman returns to his bad-boy beginnings. And the results are predictably amusing.

Perry may be the world's most high-profile tease, but she sure knows how to show us a good time.

It’s still compelling entertainment, as any biopic about Paul Raymond ought to be. Though nearly unknown in the U.S., Raymond was a famous figure in his native Britain, a flashy combination of Donald Trump and Hugh Hefner.

Nearly every actor has his or her moments of hilarity, but it's the surprises, like Herzog's terrific turn as a bunny-loving sadist, that make the biggest impact.

The wisecracking Chan and the stoic Li play off their on-screen images with good humor, and if they don't have the agility they once did, it's still a joy to watch them make the most of Yuen Woo-ping's impressive choreography.

Kaurismaki's characteristically minimalist humor and wry empathy make brief appearances, but be warned: His Helsinki is a cold, dark place unfit for all but the hardiest visitors.

Fortunately, the cast cuts through a cloying script and boosts unsure direction with sharply focused performances.

While all four leads deserve better, it's especially galling to see Burstyn - still so lovely - wasting her time and talents on a film with so little wisdom to share.

Though Alvarez keeps us watching, he takes no real chances. Buried under all those enthusiastically mangled bodies is the comfort of familiarity. He may have intended to remake a single film, but we’ve seen this movie countless times before.

Redmon has captured some compelling footage, but his lack of resolution feels like both a copout and a luxury.

Just as you need two hands to clap, explain frustrated young activists, the ­Dalai Lama requires a reasonable partner with whom to negotiate. And right now, it seems, the Tibetans may as well have their arms tied behind their backs.

Musical biopics usually replicate a star's rise and fall in depressingly predictable fashion. Hurray, then, for Mat Whitecross and his vibrantly eclectic take on what should feel like the same old story.

No, there’s nothing new here. But sometimes it’s enough to be merely entertained, rather than amazed.

The subject matter calls for ruthless observation, but his candy-colored pop vision has more in common with “Glee” than, say, “Heathers.” He’s aiming for a stinging WTF, but winds up with a fairly mild LOL.

It's Theron who owns this film, imbuing her deliciously depraved Queen with furious pain and deep-seated fear.

By turns funny, touching and genuinely inspiring.

It's hard to complain about a pop culture phenomenon built on unabashed innocence. And anyway, we might as well get used to it: Neither the movie nor the passionate tween squeals at a recent preview leave any doubt that "HSM 4" is on its way - or that the inevitable "College Musical" will be far behind.

There’s no rule that every criminal has to be charismatic, or all their heists have to be heart-pounding. They just can’t commit the one sin that’s truly unforgivable: leaving us bored.

Like the average best-man toast, Debbie Isitt's amiable mockumentary has many funny moments, a few touching ones and some that fall just slightly flat.

Won't change the world, but thanks to its casual intimacy, it was a risk worth taking.

Surprisingly poignant, thanks to its enduring sense of tenderness.

This full, sweet comedy, adapted by star Aasif Mandvi from an Off-Broadway play, has a city flavor and a wry take on familial obligations.

This mundane romantic comedy is notable for one reason only: its leading couple.

All those who have to drag themselves to work every morning will surely find some comfort in Seth Gordon's cheerfully outrageous revenge comedy, Horrible Bosses.

Though consistently engaging, Redford’s latest directorial endeavor does feel like a plea. You can almost hear him coaxing us to learn from the past, even as we rush into the future.

The dialogue does have Coupland's characteristic snap, but like its mellow hero, the movie takes the easy route just a little too often.

Dayan's weakly structured biopic Cet Amour-là is, to be kind, less than inspired. But as a showcase for legendary French actress Jeanne Moreau, it's a tour de force.

Passion this profound can't help but make an impact.

First-time director Anthony Baxter jettisons all pretense of impartiality, without adding any of the intelligent outrage of his evident influence, Michael Moore.

Baldwin and Streep do make the most of the situation, and their sparky chemistry provides the only real draw.

Eyre offers a merciless, affecting portrait of reservation life, but his relevant themes eventually wash away in a sea of unnecessary sentimentality.

A sex comedy lacking in sex, silliness or subversion, when just one would do.

Hartley fans will certainly see his influence, especially in dialogue and movement that are so precise as to feel choreographed.

Not a single moment of creativity or intrigue is to be found in the big-screen debut of the Disney Channel's most popular sitcom character.

Though Army officials vigorously defend the school, after watching so many grim interviews with victims of the school's alumni, agreeing with Smihula's skepticism is finally unavoidable.