Elizabeth Weitzman

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

Both epic and intimate, this impassioned samurai drama is for anyone who's ever watched a movie and muttered, "They just don't make 'em like they used to."

Writer-director Jordan Walker-Pearlman can't adequately handle either of his tasks: The script is as sappy as the direction is awkward. Fortunately, he was smart enough to enlist a cast of pros who can ably sidestep the project's many potholes.

Clear-eyed and open-hearted, The Straight Story (which is based on reality) tells a simple tale, and it does so with a rare, blessed simplicity.

It's left to the ideally cast McDormand to keep everything on track and, as expected, she weathers every tonal change with competence, confidence and a perfectly stiff upper lip.

This animated documentary, from former Israeli soldier Ari Folman, blends both tactics to devastating effect. Perhaps only animation could give us the distance that makes his subject bearable: the personal cost of his own participation in the 1982 Lebanon War.

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

This off-putting satire is a jumble of misguided ideas that gather like lint in the navel of self-obsessed director Philippe Caland.

A crushingly dark vision of male rage and female vulnerability, Hélène Angel's accomplished first feature hits you like an anvil -- after it's all over.

A rousing period drama with all the familiar trimmings: gorgeous costumes, palatial settings and romantic intrigue.

While "Twilight" will make more money and get more attention, the darkly comic Cirque du Freak boasts the shaggy charm of the natural underdog.

Though it's Swinton who grounds the film, Guadagnino is really telling the story of an entire family and their unquestioned way of life.

Only real fans, however, will be willing to slog through the heaping helpings of incomprehensible exposition.

Jiang's razor-sharp conclusions are less about the Japanese army or the Chinese government than about simple human nature.

The most bizarre cinematic experience of 2002. So misguided as to be utterly mystifying, this shameless vanity project is almost surreal enough to be entertaining. Almost.

This lackluster outing is mostly just a retread of past glories.

Feels like reading someone else's diary. Undoubtedly, there's some very important stuff in there, but it's most interesting to the person who wrote it.

The most extraordinary thing about Me You Them is that no one behaves as though anything remotely out of the ordinary is going on.

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

Although Kutcher deserves some ­credit for trying to spread his professional wings, it quickly becomes clear that he's in over his head.

There are a select few artists who can take the same materials used by everyone else and create a masterpiece. Coco Chanel was one of them. Director Anne Fontaine is not.

Plenty of films owe a debt to "The Godfather," but it's rare to see inspiration used as successfully as it is here.

Tries everything possible to win you over -- satire, gross-out comedy, even earnest romance. But as any high-schooler can tell you, the harder you try, the bigger you fall.

Built on an amusing idea that can't quite support an entire movie, Wayne Price's comedic debut might have made a terrific short.

None of it makes any sense, but it is just nutty enough to provide a few (entirely unintended) laughs.

The real reason to see the movie -- and it's reason enough -- is the trove of archival footage, which shows a star of almost impossible magnetism.

Every time things start to get dull, you're brought up short by another moment of surprising beauty.

Modest but memorable.

Scenario is ripe for subversive humor, but Ralston never even questions the superiority of the genetically privileged.

Turns the dangerous monotony of poverty and unemployment into something nearly hypnotic.

The Edge of Love may be intended as a biopic of Welsh poet Dylan Thomas, but it’s destined to be remembered as the movie that brought Keira Knightley and Sienna Miller into the same bathtub.

A moving film but not, to be frank, an entirely memorable one.

Because the film focuses entirely on the women's work, we learn too little about their personal histories. How did they even rise to such prominence in what appears to be an extremely patriarchal society?

If there's a lesson to be found in this shameless vanity project, it's that money can buy anything. Even a movie.

When it's all over, we still don't know who Wintour really is.

Best of all is the well-used West Village setting, which feels like the perfect backdrop for a slightly offbeat love story.

Jakubowicz successfully portrays a country corrupted beyond repair by financial inequality. But the sadism that drives the story is so gleefully nasty, it overshadows any rational arguments he's trying to make.

She has tackled difficult subjects with sharp wit, but this self-congratulatory set falls well short of our ensuing expectations.

There's no question that the film's primary intent is to showcase its stars, but thanks to their perfectly attuned performances, it feels more real than self-conscious.

Conceived by U2's Bono, it's not quite as bad as it might have been. After all, its own star, Mel Gibson, has famously called this tale of destitute misfits "as boring as a dog's a——."

Here's what's missing from Casey La Scala's film: Likable characters, a comprehensible script and any semblance of a good time.

Despite the overwrought plot and unabashed pretension, there's something admirable about the fact that Coppola clearly made this movie for himself. But he shouldn't be surprised if few others join him in watching it.

Despite strong performances, this drawn-out "Day" feels like a cross between the claustrophobic play it once was, and the R-rated "After-School Special" it wants to be.

If even one audience member leaves more concerned with the evils of poachers than the pleasures of Pokemon, Disney's more than done its job.

There are two ways of looking at Paul Etheredge-Ouzts' thriller, which he is proudly billing as "the first-ever all-gay slasher film." Either it's a truly lousy retread of horror-movie clichés, or it's a mildly amusing sendup of them.

Why would so many accomplished women waste their time and talents on a movie as counterfeit as Mad Money?

Chadwick builds a brisk pace and sweeping scope that initially grab our interest. But this Anne's sole motivations are sex and greed, and the wild rumors that were designed to destroy her are treated here as gospel.

Stays firmly, depressingly, inside the lines.

Ten years into the "Jackass" franchise, it's obvious the well is starting to run dry. Then again, if you show Johnny Knoxville an empty well, he'll jump in headfirst. After packing it with writhing snakes.

The leads are all pros, but thanks to the increasing onslaught of shock humor about abortions and rape, among other things, what starts out amusing eventually becomes something of a drag.

An urgent, stirring story made all the more inspiring by the very ordinary nature of its subjects.

Despite the movie's intimate nature, Siegel deftly broadens his view to observe the culture and conditions of contemporary American farming. Don't be surprised if, by the finish, you wind up fantasizing about your own rural homestead.

Dropping in amusing anecdotes and tender memories, a deeply reflective Young revisits - and often reinterprets - both his recent and classic work.

We never get a sensible explanation for Linda's bizarre double life, or uncover any reason - any reason at all - why Bullock would pick this lazy, patchwork script out of all the ones she surely receives every year.

Broomfield conducts riveting interviews with a former LAPD officer, Biggie's fiercely protective mother and assorted hangers-on, but the actual thrust of his evidence seems almost irrelevant.

While the lessons are light and the road well-worn, our perfectly mismatched travelers make the journey worthwhile.

Despite some contrived plotting, Amari and Abbass have so much empathy for Lilia's shy self-discovery, it's a pleasure to watch her gradually give in to her newfound joy.

Like 2003's "Lizzie McGuire" movie, "Hannah" breaks little new ground but makes the big screen shift with liveliness and sense of humor impressively intact.

If you're in the mood for fairy tales, you've come to the right place.

Curious George has long been a bedtime staple, but this animated film version may be the first time his story puts parents to sleep.

Has amusing moments, but falls apart as quickly as a cheap knockoff.

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

If all you want is sensory overload, hop in. Driven will get you there.

It would be nice to say this predictable fantasy has such a big heart, we can forgive its excesses. But director Kirsten Sheridan overplays nearly every already-corny scene, and there is no chemistry between Russell and Rhys Meyers, who appear to be passing through on their way to better projects.

Bednarczyk's natural instincts put most programmed Hollywood moppets to shame, and the quietly affecting O'Keefe shows genuine talent.

The movie’s shallow amusements do make for an ideal guilty pleasure, especially since the actors seem to be having so much fun. Bates, marching around like an overstuffed pigeon, is a reliable scene-stealer, while the two leads make an entirely convincing couple.

But the movie is so confused about where it wants to go, it suffers from the same identity crisis as its protagonist.

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.

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

The intimate history of Doug Block's parents becomes fodder for a broader look at family secrets in this complex documentary.

Lighter on horror than it is on inadvertent humor.

This year's installment is as disappointing as a Halloween bag filled with nothing but raisins.

Gripping documentary.

The film's real strength is its cast, from an Oscar-bound Mo'Nique to a notably deglammed Mariah Carey.

There are a few gross-out laughs, but Without a Paddle's gang-written script doesn't know what it wants to be.

The film moves briskly enough to be entertaining, but it can't escape the smothering hero worship that Sheridan infuses into every frame.

A fairly average movie about a very unusual child, Vitus does have an earnest charm.

Does John Leguizamo need a better manager, or does he just have terrible taste in scripts? Because aside from voicing the "Ice Age" movies, he wastes too much time on misfires like this one.

The opera's story -- about a Chinese princess who rejects all her suitors -- is never even fully explained.

A flashy homage to a dozen better movies, this self-conscious Hong Kong action flick is so packed with visual thrills, you may not notice that there's absolutely nothing beneath its impressively slick surface.

Weary and overworked to her very bones, Dora nevertheless has a heart of gold and a spine of steel. The movie does, too.

Gets it right in every dance sequence, but stumbles badly whenever the characters step offstage.

The moments when "Z&M" works are, almost without exception, the ones that are more sweet than shocking. All the rest, frankly, feel like Apatow Lite.

Perhaps it's no surprise that Reitman has come out with a lovely Hollywood romance that floats buoyantly along on a sea of sadness.

The music will keep you in your seat, but there's so much more to this story. If only they'd gotten it right the second time around.

The movie veers so wildly between being zany and grim, we're left feeling more empty than entertained.

A cheerless sequel to an uninspired remake, Cheaper by the Dozen 2 is, at best, well timed to serve as a backup baby-sitter during the hectic days of winter break.

The many riveting moments will stay with you for days, and Padilla is well up to the task of carrying this intense story on his tiny shoulders.

Intermittently compelling drama.

For a film expressly about an underappreciated culture, there are some boulder-size cliches rolling down these hills.

While The Grudge 2 feels like a second-generation copy - a little faded, with less impact than the first - there are still plenty of moments that will linger in your nightmares.

Carefully walks the fine line between paying homage to a classic and entertaining a modern audience.

Misguided at best and repellent at worst, the movie has, ironically enough, a single asset: Lohan's performance as a rebellious, uncontrollable teen.

A great idea that never gets off the ground.

Frontrunners is a lot rougher than Nanette Burstein's recent, similar documentary, "American Teen," and its comparable lack of gloss is both an asset and a flaw.

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

The sort of slick-looking indie that plays well at film festivals, this heavy-handed boxing drama is really just a flyweight bulked up on cliches and false sentimentality.

Clearly intended as a reminder that one person can move - or, at least, save - mountains.

Gaël Morel's intermittently poignant study in familial discord isn't quite substantive enough to support its histrionic tendencies.

The writing, directing and acting are all so sketchy, it's a mystery that Kattan didn't just try out this material the way he should have -- in a three-minute sketch.

Where Boll's movies were once amusingly atrocious, Postal is so aggressively tasteless and knowingly idiotic, there's just no fun to be had.

Competent in the extreme, the talented Jolie would make a great Jane Bond. But mired in this joyless orgy of preposterousness, her biggest challenge is simply keeping a straight face.

If freshman film students were assigned to make a movie on race relations, this contrived attempt is probably what they'd come up with.

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

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

If you're wondering whether the rules of love change during war, you won't find a better case than the urgent, darkly comic relationship between these two.

The kind of thriller we've seen a thousand times before. Fortunately, nobody told leads, Ryan Gosling and Anthony Hopkins, both of whom devoutly believe they're in another, better movie.

It's a formula, all right, but a strong cast goes a long way toward carrying it off. We get one, for the most part, in Alfredo De Villa's cheerfully familiar dramedy.

So unfocused we never get to know the man behind the gowns.

Assayas and his cast hit so many perfect notes, you'll swear you've seen these characters and heard these conversations before - not in Chekhov's thematically similar "Cherry Orchard," which was an obvious influence, but in your own life.

Bledel brings a sweet, steady presence, but this sort of minor project is a step backwards. It's high time she graduated on to bigger and better things.

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.

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.

Sauper captures a world in which life and death are treated with equal practicality - and disregard. His camera is unflinching; your gaze may not be quite so steady.

Overlong at just 91 minutes, Brant Sersen's sardonic sports mockumentary would have made a hilarious short film. Instead, it's a mildly amusing feature that takes a few too many potshots at some very broad targets.

Ultimately, we're looking at a discount "Office Space."

It's not giving too much away to note that we've seen a lot of this before, in classic noir and postnoir films, though to name those films would spoil things.

Just how long will it be before Matthew McConaughey finally fulfills his destiny by dropping out of Hollywood and opening a chain of nudist colonies? His heart clearly isn't in acting right now, so when it was time to make Fool's Gold, he asked his abs to do the job for him.

The story's fractured structure - and Christopher Doyle's dreamlike cinematography - make for a striking mood piece.

Garbus spent three years patiently mining for beauty in the ugliest of environments. The remarkable result stands as a challenge to anyone who would have seen only the worst and walked right by.

No worse than the second. Still, it pales in comparison to the first, which starred Dolph Lundgren. And that, right there, should tell you everything you need to know.

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.

Sets out to be a social critique but settles for smug disdain.

Pamela Yates' unblinking chronicle of recent Peruvian history paints a devastating picture of a people nearly destroyed by their own leaders.

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."

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

He definitely needs more experience, but writer/director Jake Goldberger displays an appealingly skewed sense of humor in his noir debut.

Despite this chance to experience something thrilling and new, her life is just as dull the second time around.

A charmingly loony tale of two young loners who form an unlikely bond, this droll Japanese import puts the predictable banality of most Hollywood teen flicks to shame.

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

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.

Neither chimps nor children should be subjected to such shabby mediocrity.

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

The filmmakers were too busy throwing together potential blockbuster material to notice all the loose ends and gaping holes in logic. Which may, ultimately, explain why Willis looks so confused throughout. Maybe he, too, is straining to locate some intelligence amid all the machinery.

Some of the contemporary winks are questionable, but others are undeniably sharp.

Sticking closely to formula, Disney delivers a sweet script and charming storybook backgrounds, with serviceable, if sappy, songs from Carly Simon.

Ought to suit fans just fine.

As slight as it is sweet.

There's a fascinating and terrifying story to be told about Elizabeth Bathory, the dramatically depraved 17th century sadist known as the Blood Countess.....This ain't it.

The movie's considerable problems are not the fault of its dedicated star, Nicole Kidman. She does her job beautifully - which, come to think of it, may be something of a problem after all.

As for that title, neither character is Italian, but each thinks the other is - a weak device designed purely to inspire a slew of stereotypes.

Coasting on lazy stereotypes, the script basically ends where it started, teaching young viewers that it's really not so bad to be a spoiled bitchy puppy.

It's all a little insular and very conversational, but the setting is cozy and the performances all pleasantly low-key.

Everyone will be awed by the swooping shots and sweeping vistas -- the stuff IMAX really does know how to do right.

Never shies away from either the beauty or the cruelty of the hunt.

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.

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.

A fascinating, damning picture of bourgeois boredom that manages to be both epic and intimate at the same time.

It's easy to see how a film so unafraid of religious touchstones could become a phenomenon among the faithful. Nonbelievers, however, need not apply.

Despite the overlong running time, the action moves smoothly and swiftly.

Babenco does a better job with place than with people: His explosively overcrowded jail is a teeming tenement, which makes the inevitable climax feel, finally, like something real.

Normally, I'd recommend a movie like this only to diehard fans. But even they may want to wait until it hits cable.

Turns out to be as heavy and earthbound as an injured dragon.

There's barely a frame that doesn't look stretched, smashed or otherwise harassed. Imagine "The Matrix" on speed, and you're halfway there.

Intermittent shots of actress Emmanuelle Seigner embodying the lyrics are surplus.

This tale of disaffected sexual depravity is practically a parody of the worst of French filmmaking.

Intermittently amusing.

There's a certain morbid fascination, and perverse humor, in watching grown men enthusiastically turn themselves into human cartoons. (For better or worse, these guys are their generation's Stooges.)

Rarely has Paris seemed more enchanting than in Danièle Thompson's optimistic ode to Gallic romance.

Watching Tuba's proud girls disappear into anonymous clouds of chadors says more than any political diatribe could, and Bani-Etemad is wise enough to know it.

Sweet it is. Remotely connected to real life, however, it is not.

Steven Spielberg's best war film -- and one of the two or three best movies the director has made.

With Australia, Luhrmann obviously intends to stage a grand romance against the epic backdrop of World War II. But what we get instead is an unwieldy mess that needed another six months in the editing room.

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.

A small-scale mess.

Consistently compelling and required viewing for anyone remotely interested in pop culture.

Bong's primary point is dead-on: Battling bureaucracy, from dishonest government leaders to indifferent civil servants, is the biggest horror of all.

Enlightening and rather unsettling documentary.

A nicely confident Schroeder strides though the movie as if it's a masterpiece, and Mulroney is equally charismatic. But they can't quite save Gracie from feeling like a vanity project that will appeal mostly to middle-school soccer teams, and various extended members of the Shue family.

This synthetic comedy is instantly grating.

The sort of film one should probably see either a half-dozen times or not at all. It's a complex, highly ambitious documentary that aptly reflects its subject, contemporary French philosopher Jacques Derrida.

Both politically intricate and genuinely hilarious, Faat-Kine is a story grounded in dichotomies.

Casting choices seem oddly random (only Cavanagh and Nicholson have any familial chemistry). And the humor, which is vital to a movie this inherently grim, falls flat.

It's hard to escape the feeling that what Zach Helm's directorial debut really wants to be is "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." But where Roald Dahl's story was brilliantly eccentric and respectfully unsentimental, Helm's is heavy with strained zaniness and hazy morality.

All the Benji productions have had a high corn content, but in this one, even the corn is cheap.

Eye-opening political documentary focuses on "the strange world of violence and fear, fantasy and deception, in which we now live."

The result feels as if she (Trish Doolan) gathered all her friends, turned on her camera and let them loose. Which is perfectly fine, if you don't expect anyone to pay to watch the finished product.

Ever been on a blind date that you knew would be dismal from the start? Well, this is the movie version of that date, stretched out over the slowest two hours imaginable.

Proudly, and often hilariously, juvenile, "Destiny" is packed with typically grandiose Tenacious D anthems - the sort that thrill 15-year-old boys listening alone in their bedrooms.

This tactic, and the film's valid but familiar arguments, might have been fleshed out with better results onstage.

Warm and engaging.

There's a lot of scary stuff in Wes Craven Presents: Dracula 2000. There are eyeball-sucking leeches, decapitations, punctured necks... and appalling acting.

The film is smugly hypocritical at every turn, loudly preaching the evils of sick voyeurism while encouraging its audience to cheer every gruesome death. It's not only morally bankrupt but, between the ludicrous script and Z-level acting, scrapes the bottom of the entertainment barrel, too.

Both lovely and wrenching, So Yong Kim's intimate drama feels so honest, it's often difficult to watch.

There's no one to root for but the loan shark, who makes an excellent point: It's no fun when somebody takes your cash and gives you nothing in return.

Though the mumblecore esthetic is familiar and the movie's ultimate impact slight, the filmmakers do find a fresh and modestly amusing twist by tossing their hipster out of his natural habitat.

This amped-up Japanese thriller is a fairly diverting tale of romantic and cultural alienation.

So, yes, the story is bland and predictable and disappointing. But here's the thing about dance movies (or cheerleading movies, or even marching band movies): All that really matters is the action.

As writer, director and producer, Bose has taken on more than she can handle - a fact increasingly obvious each time she stumbles over political themes. But she has a genuine gift for atmosphere, making the many wordless scenes, in teeming streets and on crowded trains, the movie's best.

On the plus side, the Irish landscape is gorgeous, and Scott and John Lithgow are amusing in small roles. But Goode barely makes an effort, so Adams' frantic exertions feel especially disheartening

Mostly, Benazzo and Day leave us alone to take in the extraordinary sights and sounds.

With a soundtrack that ranges from classical to jazz to bluegrass, this is not only an obvious choice for ­music lovers, but required viewing for anyone interested in the mysteries of creative inspiration.

Overwhelmingly powerful.

Less a movie than a very expensive display of Afro wigs and macrame wall hangings.

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.

This is powerful stuff, offering us not only a new look at the past, but to the unavoidably relevant insights into the present.

Even if this movie doesn't quite hit the highs of its predecessor, it's nice to know that there are still filmmakers ready to respect the eternal struggles of freaks and geeks.

Although all the key players are back - including, fans will be glad to hear, Heather Matarazzo as cynical sidekick Lilly Moscovitz - the freshness of the first is long gone.

The performances are absurdly broad, and each story line is more outlandish than the last. But De Felitta’s approach is so easygoing, and the waterside setting so irresistibly charming, you’re bound to walk out in a great mood. How many movies can do that for you?

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.

A superficial tween comedy that mocks celebutantes like the Olsen twins while simultaneously pushing stars Hilary and Haylie Duff as their replacements.

At its best, TMNT does recall the slangy fun of the series' glory days. But there are too many moments when it feels as stale as one of Mikey's half-eaten pizzas.

Pray unfolds the family's story with patience and skill, making it both a compliment and a complaint to say that he leaves us wanting to know much more.

Though slickly packaged, Robert Kenner's unsparing exposé is harder to watch than any horror film.

Anyone who actually adores New York is unlikely to appreciate this disappointingly bland collection of shorts, which might as well have been called "Madrid, Te Amo" or "Cincinnati, You're the Best."

As usual, Thomson steers right into the heart of vulnerability, with a painfully true performance as a guarded, confused soul.

If a black-metal band ever made a 107-minute music video, this visually striking but otherwise ludicrous epic is probably what it would look like.

For the most part, the Plastics' music -- is not extraordinary. But as it's told here, their story is.

The result is a throwaway story hidden beneath a messy jumble of weird camera angles, worthless editing tricks and an ill-placed, obnoxious score.

Though it starts out as amusing satire, the jokes become as neurotic as Dallas' female population, and the film spins out of control in every way.

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

Some moments of off-the-cuff beauty aren't enough to mask the creepy heart of Larry Clark's latest look at outcast kids.

Based on the last book in Phyllis Reynolds Naylor's award-winning trilogy, this third installment in the family-friendly "Shiloh" series is perfect for anyone who wishes "The Waltons" was still around.

There's a lot of potential here, and a sharper script might have made all the difference.

A fairy tale about the infinite power of film, it boasts all his swaggering trademarks: rapid-fire dialogue, gleeful violence, endless cultural references. But it's the sharp-eyed deliberation that makes the greatest impact.

Just not feeling the holiday spirit? Maybe a brainless, extra-bloody B-movie will provide the boost you're looking for.

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.

The question is, if Sarabeth is so desperate to escape this oppressive distillation of Jewish neuroses, why would filmmaker Debra Kirschner think we'd want to stick around?

A cross-dressing comedy that's all dressing can only, well, leave you cross.

Austrian director Michael Sturminger's debut feature creates a visually evocative environment in which to explore some significant themes, from religious repression to Freudian guilt.

Miller and Pearce are admirably determined to do their complex characters justice, but the generic script turns them into enigmatic symbols, locked in a hollow time capsule.

We can't quite shake the feeling we've seen this all done before, and better.

If you're looking for a modern-day "Meatballs" - or, for that matter, "Meatballs 4" - you're out of luck.

The plot is as riddled with holes as Matilda's victims, making her sudden appearances more distracting than distressing.

There's still a lot to like here, but ultimately the movie reflects its hapless hero a little too well. While we're constantly rooting for it to succeed, the finish line seems forever out of reach.

Actors do an excellent job portraying young people struggling with an almost manic paranoia.

Dumber than the worst UPN sitcom.

Fortunately, Tushinski strikes the right balance throughout, interspersing old erotic photos and stills from Berlin's adult films with entertaining, current-day sound bites.

Despite the intriguing potential, the end result is a queasy stalemate.

An exhausting combination of generic thriller, political tract and sentimental weepie.

While Enchanted wittily updates traditional tales, it is, in the end, as carefully calculated in its appeal as any movie ever was.

As complex as its subject's life and - like her - both flawed and fascinating.

The first midlife crisis movie apparently made with 8-year-olds in mind, Walt Becker's Wild Hogs brings several talents together for a single, clear purpose: to pay off their mortgages.

An evocative melancholy hangs over Princesa, Henrique Goldman's intermittently affecting tale.

Since the movie's sensibility ranges from the preposterous to the absurd, there are few genuine frights.

Thirteen-year-old boys big enough to sneak into R-rated movies are presumably the prime audience for this witless comedy from the Broken Lizard troupe.

The humor is infantile at best (projectile vomiting and bathroom jokes) and meanspirited at worst (midgets and gays, look out).

Once again, we chart the growth of a woman and a country at the same time, a tough assignment that Harper tackles with humor and passion (even if her Kissinger impersonation could use a little work).

An endearing premise and fanciful spirit aren't quite enough to rescue a film that has more heart than smarts.

On the scale of modern musical adaptations, it's not a disaster of "The Producers" proportions. But it is missing the razzle-dazzle of a success like "Chicago."

Rarely has there been a movie as misguided as Hounddog, which self-righteously indulges in exploitation while loudly decrying it.

As with so many message movies, this one trades ­nuance for naked outrage. The filmmakers'heartfelt intent is admirable, but right now they’re competing with a more compellingly told reality.

Jon Favreau's adaptation of Chris Van Allsburg's kid-lit adventure of the same name, more than fills the bill - though it's unlikely to draw anyone over the age of 11 (not counting baby-sitters).

Just another trip down a very dusty road.

There is never a shortage of options if you're looking for an intimate foreign drama about family bonds. But the eloquent insights of director Claire Denis stand alone.

At its best when its heroes race furiously toward their missions, most of which involve jumping out of a helicopter into surging waves.

Goldthwait explores his themes more thoughtfully than you'd expect, but ultimately, we know just how things will end. And what's subversive about that?

Barney's cinematic art inspires both awe and revulsion, often simultaneously.

You've got to admire Hilton's complete conviction in herself as the center of all that is beautiful and good. And maybe such unwavering self-regard is actually kind of hot. Or not.

A film more moving than most but not as devastating as it should be.

As stripped down as its title, this gentle Argentinian road movie makes much out of very little.

Dynamite perfectly describes this riveting documentary.

Just once, can't a city slicker go country and stay unchanged? Not in this sentimental 1995 Italian drama.

With this moving, contemplative portrait of an artist who has suddenly become an old man, de Oliveira refuses to patronize either his hero or his audience.

He may earn his living as a cab driver, but the blank hero of Martín Rejtman's sardonic Argentinean comedy is perfectly content to hitch his way through life.

It's part grim Beckett-like drama, part joyous picaresque, and all quite mesmerizing.

Anthony Byrne's lazy drama is insulting to just about everyone, including Maeve Binchy, who wrote the short story on which it was based. But nobody fares well, especially cast members Vanessa Redgrave, Brenda Fricker and Imelda Staunton.

A powerful drama that turns a common event -- the rending of a family -- into an intimate, personal affair.

Confident that his subject matter is inherently scintillating, however, Moore lays it out in creakily dry fashion. Those who consider computers to be glorified word processors may find their eyes glazing over in a matter of minutes.

So well intentioned that its flaws may be generously overlooked by parents desperately planning activities for school breaks.

Hoffman has a nice eye for detail, painting an empathetic portrait of lost souls that recalls 1955's still-powerful romance "Marty."

Both in name and spirit, The A-Team drags the Eighties into the 21st century, and you might be surprised to find -- if only briefly -- that you've missed them just a little.

Only the most hardhearted would fail to be swayed by Messner's surprising strength, and -- dare I say it -- irresistible charm.

A suddenly vital biography, Make It Funky, pays apt homage to the unique gifts New ­Orleans has given its country over the last century. Watching it ought to inspire anyone to return the favor.

Less a documentary than an unshaped document, this haphazard collection of interviews with Iraqi insurgents is both enlightening and frustrating.

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.

It's an increasingly rare pleasure to see two naturally aging adults onscreen, and it's not exactly hard work to watch this still-gorgeous pair fall in love.