Elizabeth Weitzman

If you flinch at "boo," you'll find plenty to jump at here. Just don't expect striking originality, or even genuinely memorable eeriness. Still, every time "Dark" starts to feel like a generic thriller, it's saved by the distinctive stamp of co-screenwriter/producer Guillermo del Toro.

There have been so many movies about aspiring superheroes in recent years, they practically constitute their own genre. Though hardly ground-breaking, this whimsical Australian entry is just endearing enough to stand out from the pack.

Marie Féret struggles to hold the film's center throughout, but there's more than enough to distract us, from transcendent music to sumptuous costumes and sets.

Writer/director Mona Achache adapts Muriel Barbery's novel, "The Elegance of the Hedgehog," loosely but skillfully, creating an intimate portrait that resounds with empathy. Comedy and tragedy are given equal respect, and even the quietest souls are valued.

It's a mess from start to finish, but there's still fun to be had in Rob Minkoff's caper comedy.

You'll need a taste for nostalgia to really appreciate Fright Night, which knowingly blends Eighties cheese with Nineties snark - a combination that works better than it sounds.

Quale has brought this anemic franchise back to life, with an unexpected infusion of humor and energy.

A darkly comic underachiever that manages to charm almost in spite of itself, Ruben Fleischer's 30 Minutes or Less is probably best watched as it was made: without much evident effort. In other words, wait until it hits DVD, order a pizza and Netflix it.

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.

Those who go looking for tragic relevance in Scott Rosenbaum's debut indie won't find much to grasp onto.

Though it remains a little too enigmatic, Marek Najbrt's Holocaust drama is atmospheric enough to keep us edgy on its heroine's behalf.

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

The cast is splendid, the script quick-witted and the action satisfying.

Sometimes these characters say things worth hearing. But too often, and in contrast to her first feature, "Me and You and Everyone We Know," July's calculated delivery doesn't reveal the profundity required to elevate it beyond a self-conscious deadpan.

McDonagh indulges in too many '90s affectations, from blaring chapter titles to philosophizing gangsters. But he captures his misty setting's insular atmosphere beautifully.

It's hard to ignore the fact that very little in the movie feels true - no one clicks as a couple, and there are carefully contrived coincidences around every corner.

The real problem is that this eager-to-please debut never quite achieves its own, more modest ambitions.

It's cute and funny and sweet, which - as any woman can attest - puts it way ahead of most Friday night options.

Loosely adapting Larry Beinhart's darker novel, Ratliff and co-writer Douglas Stone indulge in so many cheap shots and caricatures, their disdain drips off the screen.

It's all compelling, in the way reading trashy gossip usually is. But without any new perspectives, what's the point?

It's wonderful. Epic and heartbreaking and just as grand as it needs to be.

But oy, such terrible jokes and choppy direction. Would it have killed her to share the credits with someone else?

Though Wilson tries hard, none of the actors - including Terrence Howard as the detective who unravels this story in flashback is able to overcome the script's considerable deficiencies.

Breillat, seemingly inspired as much by C.S. Lewis and Hans Christian Andersen as by original author Charles Perrault, doesn't really make the most of her subversive premise.

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.

This story doesn't go well with popcorn, and you won't be able to shake it off like so many blockbusters. That said, it's likely to be the most unforgettable film you see all summer.

With all of the city available, she made the curious choice to follow couples who are neither unique nor especially memorable.

Some of the shocks are way too broad, and the enclosed perspective suggests the material would better suit a play. But Crawford radiates charisma, and Pierce sells even the nuttiest moments.

If you are a 12-year-old girl, you are the perfect audience for Monte Carlo.

Anyone hoping to engage even a single brain cell, however, is out of luck. Which is too bad, since popcorn blockbusters don't actually have to be mind-numbingly stupid or soul-suckingly empty.

A far cry from 2010's shallow rom-com of the same name, this Leap Year is a haunting portrait of loneliness in its starkest state.

Feels more earnest than real. Still, its sincerity is admirable, and often touching.

Despite their efforts to address most sides of this complex story, each new interview leaves us wanting to know even more. Of course, that's the sign of a compelling film - but in this case, not an altogether satisfying one.

Barely makes the grade in either humor or provocation.

There is something infectious about the old-fashioned innocence of Mark Waters' comedy.

Even if we can't live his cowboy life, Buck Brannaman's world is well worth visiting.

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

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.

As smart as it is side-splittingly silly.

Its straightforward approach is notably lacking the divine inspiration of its subject. But Don McGlynn's gospel documentary delivers so many moments of artistic ecstasy, we can forgive the plain wrapping.

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.

The most interesting threads aren't political but personal, with a melodramatic romance providing some well-earned tears. Your final thoughts, however, are likely to concern Jennifer Tilly, who's so bizarrely miscast as a severe missionary that her presence becomes its own distraction.

What's most baffling is that such a canny actor is so unable to direct his own cast.

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

It's big, bright, savvy, and so expansive you'll undoubtedly leave feeling you got your money's worth.

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

Phillips sticks so close to the formula of his original that even the characters are given to saying things like, "I can't believe this is happening again."

There can never be too many stories of human grace and perseverance like those of Nova, or Nate, or Adam, all teens who've been encouraged to channel their resentments and desires into art.

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

If this sounds like a typical date movie, worry not. It's very much an Apatow production-though the crasser additions, like his already-notorious food poisoning scene, feel painfully forced.

Knightley and Canet make a far more compelling pair. As they wander through the city after hours, doing nothing more than talking, they generate the kind of romantic heat that's all too rare onscreen.

Director Salim Akil has found actors skillful enough to enhance Elizabeth Hunter and Arlene Gibbs' conventional screenplay.

Even if you've got a soft spot for silly rom-coms, know that this one is as empty-headed as it gets.

Perry's characters have always been drawn with broad strokes, as heroes or villains. In this case, all the villains are young women, and all the young women in this film-without exception--are monstrous.

The story has heat, even if the movie is more entranced with its subjects than in what they're trying to achieve.

The primary drawback is the lack of chemistry between the leads, Reese Witherspoon and "Twilight's" Robert Pattinson.

Rickards tries hard in a difficult role and Greg Germann offers nice support as an empathetic neighbor. But like her character, it's Broderick who keeps things from falling apart.

The cast and crew render every detail so exquisitely that there's almost too much to take in at once. Repeat viewings will be required.

After a promising start that uses Anna Paquin and Kristen Bell to perfection, they settle into their old stomping grounds as if they'd never left - and that turns out to be a letdown.

Like his 2007 political drama, "Lions for Lambs," Robert Redford's fictionalized chronicle of Mary Surratt's 1865 trial is high-minded and slow-moving. Some may chafe at his unsubtle sermonizing, but strong central performances will reward the patient.

Danhier backs all the memories with a collection of great clips, and it's extra fun to spot familiar faces (hi, Steve Buscemi!).

Narrator Morgan Freeman manages to be both soothing and somber, so it's not until the credits roll that we realize how much more we want to know.

A story that never finds a reason for its own existence.

In this visually and emotionally severe landscape, Reichardt has created the sort of film that will inspire grad students to write passionate thesis papers - and casual moviegoers to feel as lost as her would-be settlers.

It's Franco's straight-faced turn that grounds this proudly lowbrow caper from his "Pineapple Express" collaborators, David Gordon Green and Danny McBride.

Though John Stockwell's action comedy is shamelessly derivative, his enthusiastic cast propels it much further than it should go.

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.

As fake and forgettable as a marshmallow Peep, Hop goes down easy enough.

Super starts off feeling like a cult comedy you might catch during a midnight film festival. But since Gunn never nails his tone, the concept makes more sense than the execution.

There's an unexpected appeal to John Gray's modest drama, emanating from its center.

Neither Francophiles nor film fans could ask for anything more than François Ozon's latest, a charming comedy.

The entire cast is solid, but most notable are Greer and Silverman, who make the most of unexpectedly serious roles.

If I were to guess how Hollywood envisions the inside of a teenage boy's brain, it would look exactly like Zack Snyder'sSucker Punch."

It's hard not to wonder if Press might have offered a similarly impactful portrait in a more concise manner.

It's simply a blandly shot recording of Michael Flatley's musical revue, as performed overseas.

Pay close attention to the title of Tom Shadyac's documentary. He will try to convince you his film is about humanity uniting to solve its problems. But somehow, his own ego keeps getting in the way.

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

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.

DuVernay's feature debut is simple and almost proudly plain. But such a stripped-down approach allows its authenticity to shine.

From the insistently discordant score to each overthought shot, this triad of stories feels self-conscious and deliberately arty rather than heartfelt.

Crowley's biting portrait feels painfully dated, but in a way that's the point: Pioneers fight so those who follow can take their battles for granted.

Much is left undeveloped, from Jane's ghostly anxieties to Rochester's evolving complexity. Wasikowska and Fassbender lack chemistry, and the latter never finds his character's depth.

That other actors - especially Akerman and Tony Hale, wonderful as a tentative couple - fare better suggests Radnor should give directing another shot.

Ultimately, the characters are props in a movie about popped collars and Ray-Bans, rather than the other way around.

The latest collaboration between Verbinski ("Pirates of the Caribbean") and Johnny Depp is sharp-edged, surreal, and often astonishing in its giddy creativity. What it is not, however, is a family film.

Pure grindhouse, so committed to its own junkiness that it is, in its way, a pleasure to behold.

Calculated Belgian crowd-pleaser.

Ever catch yourself thinking, "Man, I wish beer commercials lasted just 104 minutes longer"? The Farrelly brothers are ready to make your dreams come true.

A comedy with two left feet, Immigration Tango does have enthusiasm on its side. But it trips up under the awkward efforts of all involved.

It's a slow time at the cineplex, and the sinister scares served up by Brad Anderson are just spooky enough to freak out undemanding horror fans.

Its appeal comes almost entirely from the cast members, who appear genuinely excited to invite us to their party.

Bieber's world - at least as edited for mass consumption - is a refreshingly wholesome universe, where a young superstar is good-natured and grateful, says grace before every meal, and spends all his free time on the tour bus tweeting. He also likes to hug, a lot.

A witless rom-com that is only marginally watchable.

If ever a thriller were to inspire a collective "eh," it's got to be The Roommate. It's not a good movie, by any means, but it's also not bad enough to have fun hating on.

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.

Unfortunately, Madsen (a Danish filmmaker, not the American actor) has an approach to this rich topic that is repetitive and simplistic, as if he wasn't quite sure how to fill out even a brief feature.

Don't let the generic title fool you: David John Swajeski's documentary tells a story you're unlikely to forget.

The one person who does appreciate Emilia is Portman - which is what saves The Other Woman from the easy judgment toward which it so often appears to be edging.

From performances to pacing, nearly every element of Rao's debut is uneven. But her passionate vision of so much useless prejudice leaves a lingering impact.

Korean director Im Sang-soo can't improve on Kim Ki-young's 1960 original, a jarring and operatic cult favorite. Still, he does tweak the themes in intriguing fashion.

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

On the bright side, Ivan Reitman's disappointing new comedy isn't just cheap and formulaic, but so forgettable few people will even remember she (Portman) was in it.

There are too many overwritten moments designed solely to make the movie more interesting -- when, in fact, they undercut the low-key relatability that serves as its strongest asset.

Boote's ambitious goals include finding out how plastics are made and how they're messing with our bodies and our planet.

Hans Petter Moland's dry Scandinavian wit is just amusing enough to keep us interested in this dramedy.

Turns out, Michel Gondry has crafted an irreverently funny, ultramodern take on the 1930s radio serial.

Unfortunately, the stylistic repetition and intensely one-sided viewpoint only undermine his (Suleiman) goal.

Though Bowser uses old footage when possible, the absence of his subject -- who died tragically in 1976 -- is keenly felt.

What saves Country Strong from drowning in its own tears are the leads, all four of whom imbue Feste's unabashedly clichéd script with some genuine humanity.

The perfect haven from the cheap ironies and cruel indifference we all have to field both in life and, far too often, at the movies.

If this lovely tribute sends viewers in search of the real thing, that would be a neat trick indeed.

The cast gamely tries to keep up, with the scene-stealing O'Dowd making the strongest impression. Still, it all feels so lazy and familiar that adults may find themselves hoping Black will start to challenge himself again - and the more swiftly the better.

Dorff and Fanning are perfect in their roles, and Coppola captures the draining narcissism of celebrity culture with the understanding of someone who"s witnessed it all her life.

Fortunately, the sheer amount of talent involved makes for a cheerfully forgettable experience, rather than a memorably miserable one.

None of the three screenwriters strained himself with effort. But the relative lack of coarseness and snark may come as a surprising relief, even to 21st-century audiences.

The trouble starts with the casting. The usually reliable Kevin Spacey never quite gets a handle on Abramoff, an Orthodox Jew devoted to unorthodox business methods.

Brooks' shallow screenplay feels half-finished, and he never compensates with additional guidance or directorial flair. So all his actors are forced to flail about ineffectually. Apparently, none of them read the script in advance. Because surely then they'd have known to take a pass.

Like the direction, the script veers all over the place before reaching its inevitable, unsurprising destination.

It takes a little while to pick up speed, but once Tony Scott's Unstoppable starts moving, it becomes a lean, efficient action flick.

Franchise morphs into generic slasher series without Jigsaw.

As Claire Denis' stunning new movie reminds us, she expects a lot of her audience but gives considerably more in return.

We never really forget we're watching two highly paid professionals create a cinematic placebo, strong enough to entertain without making a long-term impact. Fortunately, everyone works just hard enough to sell us on the whole thing anyway.

Soderbergh does his best with limited time, but his biggest success may be in pushing viewers home, to watch Gray's films in full.

While Suvari is especially miscast as a sophisticate, only Richard E. Grant, as a worldly Brit, seems to understand the text.

Other than those related to cast and crew, it's difficult to imagine who else would sit through Ry Russo-Young's self-obsessed indie.

Kids, of course, are unlikely to get the religious allusions. All they'll see is a decent family adventure, perfectly suited to a cold Saturday morning -- and likely to be forgotten by Sunday.

Sure, sometimes it's fun to be assaulted by sequins, wigs, corsets and retro homage. But Xtina's fans can find all that already - in videos ranging from "Lady Marmalade" to "Ain't No Other Man" - without having to sit through two hours of recycled plots and plastic acting.

Don't you expect any hand-holding, either. Director David Yates throws us straight into Harry's waking nightmare, as he searches for a way to defeat Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) while keeping himself and his friends alive.

The only grace notes come from Noah Wyle and Peter Bogdanovich as the two characters who refuse, in different ways, to buy the industry line.

"Night" never quite coalesces into the forceful drama it hopes to be.

It's a fascinating story, and too epic to be contained here. But the directors certainly capture our interest, even as they leave us wanting to know more.

A psychosexual thriller that lures its viewers into a woozy nightmare.

As for that unpolished screenplay, the less said the better.

You won't find a tale more true to our city than the extraordinary history of Pale Male. It's just unfortunate that Frederic Lilien's documentary is as clunky as his subject is graceful.

Do not, in fact, go at all. Because aside from the actual nutcracker, most of the crucial elements are missing from Andrei Konchalovsky's bizarre miscalculation. Magic and joy top the list.

Chico Colvard's tragic documentary is blunt and rather artless, but it does make for impactful, and deeply disturbing, viewing.

The author of "Naked Lunch" and his words were funny, freaky and sometimes just Out There. Yet as "there" became "here," Leyser shows, Burroughs seemed to be everywhere.

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.

Though based on a true story with a well-known outcome, Doug Liman's Fair Game is as suspenseful as any fictional thriller -- and considerably more tragic.

"This is a woman's trip," it is announced in Tyler Perry's For Colored Girls, and how you respond to those words will likely determine how you respond to the film itself.

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

The script does boast a fair share of zingers, delivered with arch wit by a crack team of professionals.

The tone veers wildly, from wacky indie to melodramatic soap opera. Like the other men in her life, Ireland adores Jolene without entirely understanding her.

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

The actual Taqwacore movement is distilled in blatantly simplistic fashion, but Zahra does capture the novel's adolescent excitement, in which a new generation rediscovers rebellion all over again.

Every aspiring performer will appreciate Gregori Viens' unassuming comedy, which cheerfully skewers industry pretensions and media-fueled trends.

Stahl should have had a career similar to Sam Rockwell's, blending thoughtful indies with fun popcorn flicks. Instead, he's spinning his wheels in junk like this. Calamitous indeed.

The book itself is an easy read -- conveniently enough, it shouldn't take you more than two hours. So you might want to skip the discordant copy, and use that time to discover the real thing.

Working with a self-consciously urgent, neo-noir style, Goldberg seems intent on expressing a meaningful message of some kind. It's too bad, then, that he has chosen such a shallow subject.

Lee pushes this joyride into stimulation overdrive, playing with colors and film speeds and surfaces and shadows until it makes perfect sense that a movie should be all about energy, rather than -- well, about anything else at all.

Stallion" has gorgeous cinematography with spectacular landscapes - plus a lazy script, forgettable performances and regrettably uninspired direction.

Overly familiar but endearing nonetheless, this coming-of-age indie from Alexis Dos Santos is most likely to appeal to those who recognize themselves in the story's lost heroes.

Don't blame Haley, though. Wesley Strick and Eric Heisserer's screenplay goes in the wrong direction entirely, dropping Freddy's sick sense of humor while turning him into a generic bogeyman.

Good intentions abound in this earnest debut film.

While the boys' fates do seem a little too predestined, that may well be Arslan's intention. When you're idling in no man's land, it's all too easy to get uprooted.

After lulling us into a neartorpor, Jia sneaks in one of the most gut-punching endings in recent memory.

Wilson works overtime to hold Peter Cattaneo's flimsy comedy together.

By deftly blending silliness and sophistication, this little movie does its part to stem the technological tide.

A disappointing retread of a bunch of better movies.

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.

If you've had a hole in your heart since "Everybody Loves Raymond" ended, Tom Caltabiano's low-key documentary about star Ray Romano ought to fill the gap nicely.

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

A natural crowd-pleaser, this year's big Sundance award winner is both overly familiar and surprisingly fresh.

A frenetic spoof of 1961's disastrous Bay of Pigs invasion, Company Man is likely to be forgotten quickly by audiences.

If we're allowed just a couple of truly singular discoveries in twelve months, it's a good year; when one of them is a film as exhilarating as Spike Jonze's feature debut, it's a banner year.

There are some heartbreaking moments here, from the reactions of recent amputees to the tearful doctors and nurses trying hard to remain professional. And there is no question that Sanders has discovered a worthy subject. He just hasn't found the right way to approach it.

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

The only thing worse than bad horror is pretentiously bad horror. From title to finish, After.Life takes itself far more seriously than you will.

This Grimm-influenced fairy tale has a contemporary twist and the best of intentions, and that's about all there is to say for it.

In a town as status-conscious as Hollywood, the embarrassment of two "Garfield" movies on your résumé must sting like the Dickens.

Even those who've long noted Polley's intelligence on screen will be amazed by the perception she displays as a filmmaker.

Unfortunately, Miller never finds the right balance, so while there are some sweet notes, the pileup of clichés ultimately leaves a slightly acrid aftertaste.

An extraordinary achievement that nevertheless falls short of its full potential, Coraline is absolutely worth seeing, for older children and adults alike. But the connection will be entirely through your eyes; if you want it to touch your heart, you'll have to go to the book on which it's based.

Hoping for a little emotional manipulation with your popcorn? Look no further.

Working from his own original screenplay, Crowe builds a story line full of unexpected twists and digressions.

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

Though the energy occasionally flags, the movie does a nice job of exploiting the crossover potential.

Though the Chinese government won't be too happy about it, everyone else ought to be deeply moved by the tragedies Peosay records.

The sisters who play Sophie are adorable. And if you happen to be a sleep-deprived parent yourself, there are worse ways to catch a two-hour nap.

Ultimately, the film is so determinedly evenhanded, it probably won't change anybody's mind. But no matter where you stand, it's likely to leave a lasting impression.

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.

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.

The film leaves us wondering about all the war stories we haven't heard.

It's not unusual for a Henry Jaglom film to fall into a black hole of narcissism, but he has outdone himself with his latest, a satire on Hollywood's unshakable self-absorption.

Oddly, almost unrelentingly, grim.

With so little action or even insight, Marathon is far too long at only 74 minutes. Perhaps for the sequel, we can come along as Gretchen watches paint dry.

An usually insightful rendering of an ordinary family, Hirokazu Kore-eda's contemplative Japanese drama is the sort of movie that makes its greatest impact long after you've seen it.

The mildly surreal drama doesn't always make sense, but it sure does look great.

Every action scene is a spectacularly choreographed set piece. At one point, Jaa literally fights with feet of fire. Unfortunately, whenever he comes down to earth, so does the movie.

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.

Unfortunately, though, Bynes' persistent mugging only emphasizes Nussbaum's relentlessly cartoonish direction.

There's not much to it, but Austin Chick's hyper-focused indie does serve as a nicely assured showcase for lead Josh Hartnett.

Because Albertina Carri spends so much time skirting relevant issues, her self-consciously experimental examination into her parents' murder feels like a worthy movie that simply wasn't ready to be made.

One of the sharpest satires in years.

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.

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

Grim, bloody and relentless, without even a spark of fun or intelligence, Evil is barely good enough for late-night cable.

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

Andrew Bujalski's considerable gifts begin with his deep appreciation of the miserable, hilarious awkwardness of real life.

All this story needs is a mariachi band to walk in on all the overwrought mourners. Oh, wait ... yep. There it is.

Eisenstadt does a nice job with limited resources (shot briskly on video, the film feels like a home movie), successfully capturing the futility of struggling actors.

Though the overall effect feels a little anemic compared with its predecessor, the ads promise blood, and - oh yes - there is blood.

This exhausting romance feels more like a long-lost episode of "Three's Company" in which Jack Tripper decides he is actually gay.

There are few real scares, though, and even fewer actual laughs. Despite several obvious gags, Aja never captures the spoofy fun of the 1978 original.

The truth is, the mystery pales next to the best "X-Files" plots. But fans will appreciate sly references to past episodes, an unexpected appearance from an old friend and the still-poignant bond our heroes share.

It's a stunner.

Has its moments, it's also regrettably ordinary.

Whether he's the victim of poor directing or misguided ambition, Bass is almost entirely charisma-free.

Unrelentingly, admirably committed to its own grimness.

Rae does offer a riveting introduction to the American Indian civil rights movement.

There's a good little psychological thriller buried underneath all the manufactured shocks, in the story of a powerless child standing alone against a parent's mental illness.

Toward the finish, the movie takes a regrettable curve into melodrama, but the excellent performances never waver.

Perfectly modulated in its tone and performances, Lawless Heart is content to be a small, quiet film. We could use a few more like it.

What it offers are dozens of intimate moments that feel so true, they achieve a rare kind of grace. This sensitive indie drama was written and directed by brothers - and first-time feature filmmakers.

Envy is such an ugly emotion, perhaps it deserves an ugly movie. Barry Levinson's Envy fills the bill - a mean-spirited black comedy saturated with dog-poo jokes and only intermittent yowls of mirth.

The humor is sharp and so are the judgments, which pile on until the characters are nearly suffocated under the weight of so much disdain.

Corporate inhumanity Berlinger ferociously exposes.

Awkwardly plotted drama about a runaway child in Central Park.

After the first hour, it starts to convince you that time really can stand still.

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

It starts pushing buttons immediately and never lets up. This proves to be both its strongest asset and, unfortunately, its biggest flaw.

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.

Visually arresting but thematically uneven, Gerardo Naranjo's fictional snapshot of a gritty Mexican beach is simply too desperate to shock us.

If one of your non-filmmaker friends watched "Office Space" a few too many times, this is probably the movie he'd make.

The action periodically stops so the characters -= even the roughest grifters -- can break into song and dance.

Straightforward and immensely powerful, the movie offers a blunt assessment of the war from soldiers currently fighting it, and their perspective is not pretty.

If you want to direct a movie that's already been done, it's a good idea to pick one you can improve on.

Like its troubled protagonists, Mark Milgard's ultra-sensitive ode to adolescent angst is equal parts earnest and awkward. Should you happen to be a 15-year-old girl, you'll adore it.

What Disturbia lacks in complexity, it makes up for in witty jokes, sneaky jolts and a timeless lesson: If you've got windows, someone's always watching.

Bogged down by a lazy script and underwhelming performances. Fortunately, there's no hiding his jubilant passion for ritual and symmetry, which makes each perfectly choreographed band scene a genuine thrill to watch.

The kind of movie designed more for a has-been than a potential leading man, this slapdash dramatic comedy fits the now-established pattern perfectly: Your (Ryan Reynolds) committed performance is the sole reason to see it.

A lightweight goof that feels a little dashed-off.

There are movies that are important, and then there are movies that simply look and act as if they're important. With its arthouse cast, hipster credentials and ominous atmosphere, Young Adam never bothers to reach for real significance.

Surprisingly poignant, thanks to its enduring sense of tenderness.

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.

Does have a sort of endearing, earnest charm. But it would take much more than good intentions to save a film that rehashes cliches and concepts so unabashedly.

Bertino does an excellent job building dread, especially during the first half of the movie. Every silence, pause and sudden noise startles - and the results, frankly, are more frightening than the graphic torture scenes in movies like "Hostel" and "Saw."

There's a fine line between labor of love and vanity project, and this blandly earnest tale straddles it.

Odenkirk is an expert at the unexpected laugh. (This must be the first prison movie in which a cafeteria put-down involves the painter Lucian Freud.)

Miller clearly wanted to make an impression, and that he does. Maybe it's better to be remembered for one of the worst movies of the year than forgotten for a mediocre one.

A memorable portrait of a true New York character, Rob Fruchtman and Rebecca Cammisa's documentary ably captures the blazing force at its center.

There are certain films - let's call them Road Map Movies - that drive you directly from point A to point B to point C, with barely a stop for gas. Cadillac Records is such a film: You see all the major landmarks, but how enlightening can a road trip be if you never even get off the highway?

Plays strictly to formula, the only real surprise is its apparently ironic title.

Whether this smart, sexy and unsparing film is a hilarious comedy or a poignant drama is a matter of personal opinion — and experience. But if you've ever felt both baffled and blessed by your own family, this "Marriage" is one event you won't want to miss.

A few scenes are stylish enough to amuse, but they all add up to nothing - leaving you ten bucks short and feeling like a sucker.

Frankly, Zellweger shouldn't have to compete with the ghosts of Rosalind Russell and Carole Lombard, as Clooney forces her to do. It's one thing to evoke the Champagne sophistication of the screwball era; it's another to try to emulate it. Inevitably, the harder you work at capturing madcap fizz, the flatter things are going to feel.

An uncensored, often hilarious vision of spring break madness that is so perfectly positioned on the big screen, the only question you can ask its creators is, "What took you so long?"

No one is able to make much of the disposable script, but Hamm is so limited by the period trappings that it seems as if he simply wandered onto the wrong set.

It's definitely the most fun you'll have with the undead this week.

In fairness, the new movie from the Lorne Michaels machine does have its amusing moments. It's just most of them can also be found in "Napoleon," "Talladega Nights," "Eagle vs. Shark," and any installment of "Jackass."

Mystifyingly bad given the talent involved, Southlander is an in-jokey, hipster escapade that appears to have been made on a drunken weekend because there was nothing better to do.

Unless you're struck by the urge to watch strangers work out their petty issues in couples therapy, it's hard to find a compelling reason to sit through Gregg Lachow's irritatingly self-absorbed indie drama.

Besson takes a few clumsy stabs at political relevance, but it's clear that grand themes are not his priority. That's okay: His charismatic leads are martial-arts masters, and their breathtaking stunts smoothly lift the movie every time it stumbles.

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

With so many cynical Hollywood romances cluttering theaters, Zhang Yimou's unabashed simplicity is most welcome.

Fanning's Currie grabs the spotlight immediately, and never lets go.

The film is admirably honest about death, so it may be helpful if you're looking for a way to talk to kids about a difficult subject. Otherwise, stand aside and let it pass.

It's so cheerfully cheesy, you can't help but be amused.

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.

A very funny, solidly entertaining movie that, despite its unshakable obsesion with undergarments, is as sweet as a Kwik-E-Mart Squishee.

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.

Both public tribute and private therapy session, Baadasssss! should have been a self-conscious disaster. By confronting his past with wit and style, Van Peebles has instead created a meta-cool history lesson and homage.

The special effects here are surprisingly smooth, and everyone seems to be having fun.

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.

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

Both visually and emotionally ugly from start to finish, this empty crime thriller doesn't have a moment that's genuinely worth watching.

The most faithful cinematic depiction of adolescence in recent memory.