Ernest Hardy

The entire cast is in fine form (Omari Hardwick, as Maye's maybe-suitor, pushes the sexual heat through the roof), but White's blistering performance sears the screen.

There's satiric comedy to be mined from the conflicting messages society still sends about pregnancy, motherhood, and women's worth, but the script isn't smart enough to explore them.

Too self-consciously dark, too aware of its long, murky, art-designed descent into the underbelly of America's addictive personality.

There are undoubtedly several moving moments in the film, and the kids are gorgeous and heartbreaking, but none of that is strong enough to balance Braat's galling and enabled narcissism, which pervades the film.

It could have been a hoot in a bad-movie way if the laborious pacing and endless exposition had been tightened. As it is, only LaSalle's sizzling performance makes Crazy more than a by-the-numbers psycho-horror thriller.

Though Neshoba is standard-issue in terms of craftsmanship, the tools used to tell the tale (newsreels, family photos, crime scene and autopsy photos) are masterfully employed.

Belongs to the small rank of hip-hop films that actually have something to say -- and that say it with both style and intellectual bite.

The kids absolutely win your heart, but there's something off-putting in the film's lazy juxtaposition of unexamined Negro dysfunction tropes (absent fathers, violent streets) against an idyllic Africa tended by white benevolence.

Nathan Lopez, armed with a diva's slinky cat walk and determination, is absolutely fantastic as Maximo.

Hamlet, like its title character, is a mopey, dopey thing that you just want to scream at: Do something!

What gives the film its human dimension are the conflicting memories of former residents.

Song is filled with great beauty and moments of everyday life that show that director Michael Obert has a fine sense of the power of the quotidian... But Obert also slips in powerful critiques of Sarno with the lightest of touches — some so light they might be accidental.

Too slow-moving and too understated in much of its humor.

Held together by strong writing, insightful direction, and a stunning turn by newcomer Rodriguez, who is not only a gorgeous young woman but a fiercely charismatic screen presence.

Kline, Debbie Reynolds (as his mom) and Tom Selleck are all wonderful. But it's the always amazing Cusack, playing the baffled Emily, who steals the film in a smooth transition from wide-eyed fiancée to possibly wronged woman, a role she essays with a perfect balance of wounded-ness and comedic aplomb.

Questions loom heavily over this entertaining but not-too-deep film, making it more a commercial than real exploration.

More than once, while watching the film, I thought: The camera should really just turn away from those grating teen brats and follow the mom (Holly Hunter).

In a film that quickly reveals itself to be a love letter to Wu, some of the best moments have nothing to do with that legendary hip-hop collective: Sage Francis taunting the unruly, increasingly tense crowd with his cerebral, political performance-art hip-hop; Redman playfully admonishing his young son to be good and then giving the boy a kiss when the paternal command wounds.

Informant is riveting as it slowly assembles a damning profile of its subject. It's also timely.

But if you go in knowing this, the payoff is considerable - the film delivers on its feel-good promise.

The film won't likely change any minds, but there's a taut political essay beneath the blatant campaigning.

The supporting cast is uniformly fine, but the film rests on the delicate shoulders of Bonnaire, who carries it with a soulful, magnetic presence.

In the end, Butterfly is an infuriating film because it's so very contrived, so annoyingly phony.

The film is beautifully shot and filled with fine performances.

A loving, exhaustive, warts-and-all look at the man who spent years battling his own alcoholism before a spiritual experience in the hospital set him on the course to help others.

There's a shrewd satiric method to LaBute's madness, and a payoff in comedic gold.

It's a smart, funny, tough-minded film crammed with data and personal anecdotes, each illuminating the other, each sketching in the staggering costs—and not just financial—of the ways authorities in this country have shaped the drug issue. It's far from glib.

A love letter to the group. Packed with fantastic performance footage, it solidly makes the case that, throughout the '80s and early '90s, Fishbone was one of rock's best live acts ever - furiously energetic, innovative, leaping multiple genres in a single song.