Elizabeth Weitzman

Coming from a big shot like Levinson, An Everlasting Piece feels like a gently amusing but undeniably minor diversion that, for whatever reason, needed to be gotten out of his system.

Herzog has certainly found a fascinating subject, but he does surprisingly little with it, especially considering the 135- minute running time.

It's that happiest of surprises: a multiplex movie that genuinely respects its young audience.

By turns funny, touching and genuinely inspiring.

What makes this one stand out is the tugging, melancholy romance hiding behind the curtain of blood.

The performances are impeccable, but while director Joachim Lafosse carefully creates an atmosphere of suffocating dread, he could have let a little more air into this simmering hothouse.

Looking for plot holes? You can't miss them. But if you go in hoping for a good time, you'll find that, too.

Granik took a big risk here, making a purposefully small film that rejects familiar notions of dramatic conflict. But her approach works well enough that the most jarring note becomes Foster’s movie-star presence.

While a good director can spin a worthy movie from any subject, first-timer Carlos Brooks does surprisingly little with the jaw-dropper of a topic he chose.

Best of all is newcomer Connell, the kind of charismatic kid who would have been cast in "Freaks and Geeks" ten years ago.

Though based in truth, Mark Jacobson's script is built on age-old clichés. And nobody knows how to end the film, so it just fizzles out.

Some documentaries are so well-made they transcend the nature of their subjects. This is not one of them.

Director Jafar Panahi has long been an eloquent and passionate representative for Iranian women. But judging by this deeply poignant comedy, they may not need a mouthpiece much longer.

The truth about Lies is that it's a case of art-house porn being more porn than art.

It's a shame Bravo doesn't allow herself a broader perspective, because she's right to consider Castro one of the most important figures of the 20th century.

The film is hampered by a somewhat shallow, soap-operatic climax. But Knoller is superb as a practical man trying to balance reason and emotion. Fox does an excellent job capturing the claustrophobia of army life, made all the more suffocating by having to hide one's true self.

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

The efforts of Beavan's clan are so extreme that they spark some interest, but their environmental commitment feels a bit too self-serving to have the impact that's clearly desired.

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.

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

A little miracle, Azazel Jacobs' lovely story of a life lost and found tackles big issues -love, maturity, fulfillment - in deceptively modest fashion.

A poignant, deeply ­intimate history of one family.

From folk festivals to political rallies, Masud never overlooks the cultural and emotional elements of a country at a crossroads.

With few laughs and no real poignancy, the movie's success rests squarely on Adam's oft-naked shoulders.

A masterful collection of cinematic essays.

Here's what Crossroads does not have: Cohesive direction from Tamra Davis, intelligent dialogue, a comprehensible plot.

There are moments of amusing melodrama, but for the most part, the action is too preposterous to take seriously, and too serious to be very much fun.

The sort of independent-film project that could have been disastrous in less-skilled hands. But Freeman's direction is so deft and the performances so natural that her remarkable experiment ends up feeling more realistic than most documentaries.

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.

Often insightful and more than a little depressing, this is a story that only gets uglier as it goes on.

Some of the accusations feel more sordid than satisfying.

A fascinating exploration of the mysteries of the artist's life.

After an hour of red herrings, in which Jill investigates creepy corridors or opens rattling closet doors with no results, the only real danger is that we'll become bored to death. For real thrills, rent the original, turn down the lights and scare yourself silly.

Bateman could have been much more interesting if he'd been played by someone who wouldn't need to work quite so hard (Charlie Sheen or Rob Lowe might have been fascinating here).

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.

Streep is the most important ingredient in this recipe.

Ultimately it's Sheen, finding new facets of his character in every scene, who shoots and scores.

Seemingly made while writer-director-star Cevin Soling was heavily under the influence, this generally witless ode to illegal substances is apparently meant to be viewed that way, as well.

Packed with filthy jokes, insane sight gags, and body parts used in decidedly uncommon ways, Brüno is hands-down the dirtiest R-rated movie you'll see this year.

Unlike most inner-city stories that come out of Hollywood, this feels like the real thing.

Like a mango rotting in the sun, Frank Flowers' squishy Caribbean thriller has been sitting on the shelf long enough to attract suspicion. Bite into it at your own risk.

A curse would be a great improvement on the wishy-washy wickedness of this movie.

It's not a pretty picture, but it sure is a compelling one.

While the series is smart enough to have inspired an army of adult fans, too little of its droll intelligence is on view here. Instead, the film feels like a rote effort made for some quick box-office bucks.

Barratier directs with a jaunty artifice more typically seen on stage, but with the exception of Arnezeder, his cast turns theatricality to its advantage. They're offering us a sunny fantasy during a cloudy time, and seem well aware that we're unlikely to resist.

Like the homeless kids at its center, Alison Murray's feature debut is passionate, angry and suffering from a serious lack of discipline.

There are too many familiar faces in this story, from kindhearted whores to street-urchin bullies. But even if circumstances edge toward the unlikely, Kravchuk and Spiridonov make an effective team, exploring the realities that lead to so much heartbreak for so many children.

Director Uwe Boll wholeheartedly embraces the film's concept, and with some fancy editing and a pulsing soundtrack, the effect really is like watching a video game.

The story has more holes than a shot-up metal door, the acting feels bored at best, and the intermittent action, while passable, hardly makes up for the downtime.

But where the original was slight but sweet, the remake is depressingly superficial and cynical.

The result is an often-anguished monologue built on pride, despair and self-defense. Accuracy aside, Tyson does work hard to analyze his own, clearly complex character. So while we only get half the picture, it makes for consistently compelling viewing.

After a fiendish start, filmmakers James Wong and Glen Morgan approach their task with all the subtlety of a hammer to the head (or a knife to the gut, or an ax to the back). They do, at least, find a mordant humor in the formula.

So after about an hour of watching four children eat, bathe and crawl, you might start to wonder why you've paid to see somebody else's home movies.

Hou intends to celebrate the classic 1956 children's film "The Red Balloon," and he has done a beautiful job. In fact, he may well have created a future classic of his own.

There's little to enjoy in this unsettling tale, but Doillan's unblinking depiction of manipulation and desperation stays with you long after the characters make the deals that seal their unjust fates.

This is a thoughtful and enlightening documentary about artistic censorship and free speech.

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.

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?

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.

In Mean Machine, soccer is pretty much an excuse to watch a bunch of grown men smashing their heads together. Which, come to think of it, may be enough.

Though the film does have the modest, human-interest feel of a "60 Minutes" segment, it grows stronger as it goes along.

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

Director Ryan Murphy achieved a major casting coup in landing Julia Roberts to play Gilbert - or Liz, as she's called here. As it turns out, though, a lesser star may have been a better choice.

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

Actors Trevor Wright and Brad Rowe are good enough to turn a formulaic coming-out tale into a sweet romance.

A classic case of good intentions and bad filmmaking.

Where's the comedy?

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.

Everyone involved can claim credit, but it's Dinklage, in an understated, outstanding performance, who turns this unlikely tale into art that will strike a chord with any open-minded audience.

Unlike so many indie films, Michael Kang's gently empathetic debut embraces eccentricity without drowning in its own hip irony.

There are a few clever moments, as when an Amish farmer saves the tech-savvy students. But mostly, we're in it for the gore.

Frustratingly, though, and not a little ironically, Justman chooses to focus on the new stars when they sing, rather than on the Funk Brothers playing in the background. Just as curiously, he paints a remarkably rosy picture of the old days, overlooking the racism and exploitation the Brothers surely experienced.

The old footage is definitely compelling, but once Moss trains his focus on the quotidian present, the movie takes on too much water to stay afloat.

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.

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.

This mordant, macabre look at the American obsession with fast food, television and murder is icily funny.

In general, movies made by improv comedy groups are hit or miss. And this one, from the Upright Citizens Brigade, misses a whole lot more than it hits.

A limited amount of original footage -- awkwardly enhanced with reenactments -- gives the film a somewhat narrow focus. But in a way, the dry tone fits.

It's impossible to guess why Bullock was ever attracted to this insulting role, and the eternally confident Reynolds is miscast as a young, bullied underling.

You'll have a few laughs, for sure. Just don't expect to enjoy yourself as much as everybody on screen.

Although the period feeling is convincing, Forman doesn't seem to know exactly what he wants to say about this intensely complex era - and that leaves his cast floundering.

Joachim Trier's energetic, inventive debut takes such a novel approach to well-worn themes that it makes most movies look downright lazy.

Director James Gray is best known for hard-edged dramas like "Little Odessa," so it's surprising to find he has such a well-developed romantic side. This isn't your average date-night flick, though.

Her story (Ganatra) -- and the rest of the gifted, multicultural cast that brings it to life -- represents another step in the evolving face of film.

This is an important New York story, and Spaisman makes an inspiring subject.

In his directorial debut, Krasinski doesn't seem to believe in his hideous men so much as he appears intimidated by them.

If an hour and a half of so-called "torture porn" sounds like fun, you'll find Saw IV situated somewhere between the first in the cycle (a solid original with plenty of energy in it) and the last (a gasping copycat willing to do anything to stay alive).

Winterbottom informs us that, though fictional, his story represents thousands of real lives, and there is a hardly a false note, which makes this both a difficult and exceedingly memorable film to watch.

There's plenty of passion beneath this movie's unadorned surface.

Well, it was bound to happen: The Wayans brothers have made a movie that's even more two-dimensional than a cartoon.

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.

Check out the trailer before you commit to this one; if it's for you, you'll know instantly. And if it's not, you'll know that, too.

The movie even has the nerve to start with a montage of moments from his better films, a bad idea that sets off an escalating tumble downhill.

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.

This warmed-over slop feels as if it's been congealing for twice that long.

You'd be better off spending an evening with the collected works of Rob Schneider.

Both a witty ode to and a poignant lament for the choices we make.

Many of the cast members originated their roles onstage, and the ensemble scenes capture the spirited sense of fun that is Perry's trademark.

Rahim and Arestrup are both so outstanding that if this were an English-language film, they'd probably be nominated for Oscars, too.

Though intermittently shrill, Shopping does have enough moments of insight to blunt charges of sexist stereotyping.

This is not a great comedy, but it has some honest laughs, a few touching moments.

Cantor seems to have noticed how dull the actual footage is, since he relies heavily on "arty" shots and black-and-white inserts.

Though it's ultimately rather heavy-handed, this drama about an Iranian-American family is heartfelt and topical.

The lack of subtlety indicates that this is a first film, but the passion and insights are strong enough to make you wonder what he'll (Webber) do next.

Only slightly less awkward than its young protagonists, Todd Stephens' earnest coming-of-age drama is able to coast a long way on two engaging performances and some endearing moments.

There are some good ideas buried beneath the grotesque whimsy, and several animated sequences are modestly clever. But Pitt's mannered performance will inspire nothing but a run to the video store, in search of a real Burton.

Such dark doings won't be for everyone, but fans of similarly dry Nordic fare -- like the works of Aki Kaurismaki -- will be happy to have found it.

Manages to tackle some serious issues without sacrificing its inherently sweet nature.

Unfortunately, the visuals are not compelling enough on their own to hold our interest, and a highly mannered Derek Jacobi is all wrong as the narrative voice of Nijinsky.

Though Flicker based the story on real events, the execution is so melodramatic that none of it feels remotely true.

Will Rugrats fans love it -- Wee, we -- er, oui, oui.

Everything you might want in a road movie: an off-the-cuff sense of adventure, a winningly scruffy charm and a whip-smart sense of humor.

Overwrought and overlong, Returner might been a rousing B-movie -- had it not been hamstrung by Yamazaki's bigger pretensions.

Gram Parsons' last rites were among the most extra­ordinary in rock history. Too bad this retelling of the singer's final adventure is so tame.

Turns out, subtitles don't make soft-core any classier.

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

While Shelly's stylized vision and sentimental intentions don't always gel, they do result in a warm, often charming fantasy.

Denis' slow, deliberate style shuns typical suspense techniques, relying instead on something far more effective: a stunning performance by Testud.

As earnest as its artless young characters, Tom Rice's intermittently affecting debut walks a well-trod path without finding anything very new.

Every scene has its highlights, from amusing observations about sex to poignant truths about parenting and partnerships. But what you'll remember most is the exquisitely lovely final scene, in which Cholodenko reminds us that all we need is a single moment of perfection -in a family, or even in a film - to believe that somehow, things will always be all right.

Unless you happen to be one yourself, chances are pretty good that you'll take an immediate dislike to the self-satisfied hipsters who populate this disappointing comedy.

The actors are up to the challenges of the many serious moments, but the sweetest ones are the most memorable. It's nice to see Loach's gentler side.

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

If you only want a sequence of slashings, impalements and head-squishings, you'll get your money's worth. But if you like a little movie with your mayhem, you're out of luck.

Even when their picture wanders from any reasonable path, it's never less than stunning to look at.

A message movie that's genuinely worth watching.

No matter how silly the situation, each member of the uniformly strong cast creates a nice balance between sentimental and sweet - which is just how every holiday gathering should feel.

At moments, the story skirts uncomfortably close to the grotesque. But this atmospheric oddity delivers a surprisingly sensitive take on the overwhelming ache of loneliness.

The film's only dialogue is composed of Young's songs lip-synched and acted out by the cast. This makes for a very literal, somewhat stilted experience.

Aside from the shamelessly promoted corporate sponsors, nobody emerges from this game a winner. But the biggest losers are the ones who paid good money to watch it.

Overall, though, you get the exhausting feeling that Stolberg is desperately trying to prove how cool he is. And didn't you see enough of that in high school?

No one will accuse The Ringer of being tasteful, but when you're not laughing, you may find yourself genuinely touched.

There's not a single moment when you forget it's Weaver; she always seems to be inhabiting this poor character's soul for her own purposes.

Simpson and Yates give a good idea why individuals are drawn to extreme sports.

There are a couple of nominal insights here, but honestly, you'll find more intellectual edification (or whatever else you're looking for) flipping through Richards' photo shoot in the current "Playboy."

The production values are impressively slick and a few performances are polished, but it's not much more than "The Big Chill" on a little budget.

Though the film is as long as the escape route, Richter's brisk direction keeps us riveted through the suspenseful finish of his vivid history lesson.

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.

While Duff is fairly flavorless, Muniz proves that four seasons of "Malcolm" have made him a pro at navigating surreal silliness. Even when the script fails him, his well-honed instincts save the day.

Though he plays two other roles, Perry only really cuts loose when he dons Madea's housecoat, turning her into a devilishly funny voice of reason. Likewise, the movie tenses up when she's offscreen, becoming the sort of moralistic soap opera we've seen from Perry before.

While "Escape" was superior in story, "Race" does commit to an impressive scope. What it is, really, is a big-studio popcorn flick that just happens to be made for tweens.

The result is a visual treasure that successfully blends deadpan quirkiness with a wry realism rarely seen in any film, let alone one for children.

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

The film does look beautiful, and there's enough intrigue to inspire anyone to learn more about such a complex, fascinating life. It just would have been nice to see a little more of that complexity onscreen.

Ferrera and Gross are the most appealing pair I've seen in awhile; their calm confidence is a welcome antidote to the unrealistic couples who've been cluttering our screens way too long.

Preposterous collegiate drama that exists simply to show pretty girls kissing, pretty boys undressing and pretty people of every sexual orientation drinking, doing drugs and otherwise wreaking postadolescent havoc.

Sadr-Ameli's unflagging empathy and Alidousti's confident performance keep us rooting for this young heroine, who refuses to accept the limits forced upon her by both society and the law.

Heated speeches about the International Monetary Fund, debt relief and global responsibility may not sound like your idea of Friday-night entertainment, but Sissako makes a strong case.

After allowing sadistic violence and whining children to invade his movie like a horde of termites, Carr tries to put one over on us by tacking on a sentimental ending. But as any homeowner could have told him, you can't disguise a weak foundation with a cheap finish.

With little dialogue, a murky night setting and the slowest of plots, this Portuguese fantasy only comes alive when it conforms to its true nature as arthouse pornography.

Refusing to be rushed, Doris Dörrie blends individual experiences with universal emotions to create a quietly moving study of self-discovery.

There are a few fight scenes, but they're as unshowy as the rest of this restrained film. If your warrior ideal is Uma Thurman in "Kill Bill," you may not have the patience this gentle story demands of its viewers.

A lazy attempt to snare some preadolescent allowance money, Sleepover earns little more than a few bored yawns.

Leaves almost no impression at all.

At heart, "BSM" is no different from the midnight movies of the '60s and '70s that reveled in a head-spinning blend of blatant exploitation, provocative racial commentary and overwrought performances.

This is compelling stuff, but Jones seems almost pathologically averse to upstaging the songs themselves.

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.

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

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.

Still witty and eloquent, these cerebral boys became the haunted men who do their best to share their experiences with us, even as they know we'll never truly understand.

A Disney movie about a Disney project, this slick sailing documentary feels a little too self-promotional, almost like an attraction you might stumble into at Epcot. But at least it turns out to be a fairly wild ride.

Co-stars Parker Posey and Chris Kattan offer minor diversions, but the humor never rises to the quality any New Yorker, regardless of sexual orientation, would expect.

The kind of movie in which plot and performances (and members of the fairer sex) are treated as accessories, "Tokyo Drift" is all about the action. And on that count, it won't let you down.

It's the many thoughtful, eloquent interviews with Fellini himself that serve as the heart of the film.

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.

Though it feels at first like a musty edition of "Masterpiece Theatre," Michael Hoffman's adaptation of a novel by Jay Parini holds enough surprises to make a memorable impact.

Though a bit long and occasionally ­awkward, this drama ultimately does ­justice to its inspiration - the true-life tale of boxer-turned-transsexual Nong Toom.

Seen through Demy's eyes (and Raoul Coutard's shimmering black-and-white photography), their extravagance is so effortlessly cool, you feel somehow lucky just to be there with them.

Wrenching performances and painstaking visual and thematic compositions.

The soundtrack is a genre-hopping joy, and each musical number is cleverly staged and creatively choreographed. The problem is the noble mess of a movie that takes up so much space in between.

A lovely, luminous dream.

Melancholy 16-year-olds are the ideal audience for It's Kind of a Funny Story, which actually feels as though it were made by an especially precocious adolescent.

A Belgian "Deliverance," Calvaire (The Ordeal) not only treats us to a few good scares, it also teaches us that Europe has its own rednecks.

Terrifically sneaky psychological thriller, which takes great pleasure in watching carefully constructed family values come tumbling down.

It clearly wants to be more, but it's failed by its lightweight leads.

If you want to make a film, this is a great place to start. But if you just want to watch one, it's more of dead end.

A lovely, almost painfully intimate story of female bonding that never panders to its characters or its audience.

As befits a production of impeccable French pedigree, the acting, set design and lush cinematography are all outstanding. But the story is told so slowly.

Hard to watch but important to see.

If you're really hoping for a perfect holiday, steer clear of this stale fruitcake of a comedy.

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.

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

You know how sometimes you have to listen to the boring problems of acquaintances you don't really like? And all the while, you're silently wondering if you remembered to pay your rent? Well, writer/director Alan Hruska has very kindly recreated that experience for us all.

With the exception of one truly glorious dance solo, the movie treats its hero - and his equally uncool family - with undisguised disdain.

This desperate effort by ­professional frat boy Tucker Max may be the most dismal movie of the decade.

The story doesn't make any real sense, and the production values are home movie-cheap. But the cast seems to be having fun.

Clever, slightly edgy fun.

Some of the artists appear ecstatically transported as they play. Others are just having one hell of a good time. Believe me, it's contagious.

Lovett's history is heavy on hedonism, but he does deliver a succinct perspective on this celebratory era - between the sad bookends of repression and loss.

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

There are some light chuckles to be had, but considering its promising parentage, this is surprisingly soft stuff.

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.

So desperately eager to please: Gaudreault doesn't offer much in the way of wit or originality, but he's determined to win us over with sheer enthusiasm.

Given the subject matter, the movie is almost fatally lacking in passion.

Self-indulgent in the extreme, Julián Hernández's laconic ode to heartbreak feels like the work of a lovelorn teenager.

The Buis seem not to have complete confidence in their unique, imprecise style, which is too bad.

Features amateurish acting and direction, and a going-nowhere script.

Seems to have been made entirely for people who were kids during the Johnson administration.

The awkwardly told story of salsa legend Hector Lavoe, El Cantante doesn't even get the title right: It should have been called "La Esposa," since it's really less about the singer than his wife.

Although Voyages is mapped with anguish and fear, director Emmanuel Finkiel's characters are survivors, and he never lets us forget it.

While there's no fun in mediocrity, ludicrousness is another matter. Boll is the best at what he does, and what he does is make truly terrible films.

A bizarrely off-key animated comedy.

There's nothing here for kids, or, for that matter, anyone who claims to be an adult. But if the title makes perfect sense to you, the movie probably will, too.

Though younger fans of Cameron's 1997 blockbuster may be a little disappointed at the lack of, well, Leo, Cameron persuades us to share his obsession with the ship's history.

Since there's no suspense whatsoever, we're simply stuck with awful people doing awful things to each other.

Nunez's fans will appreciate his ability to evoke a palpable atmosphere. But there's just not enough spark in his scorched setting.

Stambrini puts so much weight on shock value, she overlooks the matter of emotional resonance.

Even the food - usually the centerpiece of a restaurant movie - is oddly uninspired. Despite Zeta-Jones' best efforts, barely a moment here feels organic, or fresh.

The script is basically a retread of every other AARP comedy, from "Grumpy Old Men" to "Wild Hogs." The laughs, in other words, are of the Viagra and kidney stone variety.

A horror flick that's all talk and (almost) no action? The risk pays off better than you'd think.

There's plenty to appreciate in Chris Rock's rollicking documentary about what goes on when African-American women hit the salon.

Dance aficionados are the most obvious audience for this stirring chronicle, but anyone should to be able to find inspiration in Halprin's strikingly open-minded outlook.

Doesn't probe quite as deeply as it should.

All we get is mild platitudes before the shows, and one-song sets.

How do films this stale and generic continue to get made, let alone with topflight talent? Cedric has been stealing scenes from bigger names for nearly a decade; he deserves better than a few amusingly-improvised minutes at the end of his own movie. And so do we.

And oh, what stories these heroes have to tell - and what incredible sights they brought back with them.

It's unabashedly derivative and spooky enough to keep you up at night.

On the plus side, the actors - especially Butler and Wilkinson - work overtime to pump some extra life into the self-conscious script.

Strong performances and understated cinematography help balance the self-conscious editing, but ultimately the entire affair feels false.

Unfortunately, this strained comedy relies entirely on clichés and contrivances to tell the story of Sherman.

Directors Adam Del Deo and James D. Stern focus primarily on the casting process for the 2006 revival, parading so many personalities past us that we don't really get to know anyone. Bypassing the original for the recreation? That ain't it, kid.

The Box is its own kind of awful, a disconnected mess that never finds its reason for being.

If her (Noujaim's) movie teaches us anything, it's that no reality remains unspun.

It still sounds pretty fresh: politicians scratching backs, loose ladies threatening to talk, careers balanced tremulously on the line

Intelligent thriller--turns-- into an embarrassing gothic horror show.

Takashi Miike is a master at making love-'em-or-loathe-'em spectacles, but even fans are likely to consider the final film of his Dead or Alive trilogy a minor entry in his oeuvre.

As appealing as acid-washed jeans, Kickin' It Old Skool exists solely to provide employment for aggressively abrasive comic actor Jamie Kennedy.

Adapted from a years-old stage play, The Salon, Mark Brown's stilted, sista-centric answer to "Barbershop," definitely shows its roots. And despite a few highlights, the overall effect is not pretty.

A shiny shell of a movie, "TWBS" is pretty to look at, and occasionally fun to watch. But ultimately, it's an exercise in futility - for the participants, who can do so much more, and the audience, which deserves so much better.

A film as unique as this is a gift that shouldn't be ignored.

If you like your gore hardcore, you'll want to head straight for "Halloween II." But if you're happy to ease around a slightly smaller track, look no further.

Argott treats Barnes' story as an intellectual crime thriller, uncovering each new surprise -- and a seemingly endless parade of villains -- with a deadpan flourish.

Unfortunately, while director Steve Boyum is a successful stunt man and off-road biker, his skills do not extend to the relatively passive arena of filmmaking. Somehow, he even makes much of the action static.

There's little depth underneath the simmering surface, but if you're looking for escapist Halloween scares, you could do a lot worse.

With a respectfully committed cast, gorgeous scenery and two sad-eyed leads that will break your heart (the kid and the dog are equally adorable), this is clearly not your typical family film. Which will make it that much more appealing to every member of your family.

It's a shame, but perhaps no surprise, that Niederhoffer was unable to transfer her astute vision to the big screen.

After a clever start, Spurlock turns self-serious, aiming to teach us something about our enemies and ourselves.

Assayas - whose previous work, though noteworthy, never hinted at this kind of ambition - gives the film a journalistic quality, while admitting that only a recombination of facts and fiction could do the story justice. It certainly results in explosive viewing.

Unfocused and underwhelming.

The charismatic young women who populate Daniel Peddle's illuminating documentary are vibrant proof that there's still an untold story waiting around every New York City corner.

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

If Firehouse Dog was on cable, where it belongs, it would make a passable diversion from homework or chores. But a kid would have to be pretty desperate to leave the house - and waste allowance money - for this modest distraction.

Heartbreaking and hilarious.

If, on the other hand, your driver's license is still a distant dream, consider this a path to pure hilarity.

That the film is overlong ultimately testifies to its importance, though after a while, the outrageous details start to run together like surreal satire. Except, of course, that it's all true.

Unremittingly explosive, Head-On is not an easy film to watch. It is, however, a memorable one.

This Spanish sequel to a 2007 cult hit uses the way-overdone conceit of videotaped terror.

A murky swamp of a movie, Terry Gilliam's defiantly surreal Tideland finds every good idea drowning in an excess of indulgence.

On the whole, this is an awfully long slog through very arid terrain, in which generic soldiers track, fight and try to escape from generic villains (you'd be surprised at how uninteresting mutant flesh-eaters can be). I can't speak for the hills, but I spent most of the movie just trying to keep my eyes open.

(Cusack)'s genius, however, is in his continual ability to be the most likeable of everymen.

The movie's beating heart is the friendship between the women, who had found some sort of happiness by the show's 2004 finale. Now they're all at a personal crossroads and need one another more than ever.

Boredom is the very basis of this sequel, at least at the beginning.

The Zimbalists have unearthed a trove of footage, which they effectively blend with a full range of surprisingly honest interviews. As a result, the story of two individuals expands into a portrait of an entire country, in almost unthinkable distress.

A passable, but entirely uninspired "Spy Kids" wanna-be.

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

Fans of Andrew Bujalski's previous mumblecore movies are the likeliest audience for his latest, a modest, slice-of-life indie that doesn't quite live up to his ­earlier efforts.

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

The title might as well refer to the viewer who tags along on Louis' often-silent journey from solitude to some tentative form of family. Some will consider the experience insurmountably frustrating; others will find it exhilarating.

Though the story itself is undeniably fascinating, this somewhat prosaic account simply doesn't do it justice.

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.

With its amateurish performances and sloppy script, Hey, Happy! has the homemade feel of a cult movie, but very little of the charm.

Despite the obvious cultural differences, what we come away with is a surprising sense of familiarity. Not even the widest political chasms, Gordon finds, can eradicate the universal pleasure of a young girl's giggle.

Writer-director Claudia Myers' clunky debut feature makes the case that first-timers should probably focus on either writing or directing.